


Through Fire or Fury

by Fire_Kitten, Lady_Savannah



Series: Through Fire or Fury [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Real World, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Dreaming, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Just different POV OK?, Language Barrier, Learning Magic, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mental Health Issues, Modern Girl in Thedas, POV Leliana, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, POV Varric Tethras, Rape/Non-con Elements, Real Dream, Recovery, Slow Burn, Strange Magic, Swearing, lucid dream, solas is a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 06:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 121,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13607715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Kitten/pseuds/Fire_Kitten, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Savannah/pseuds/Lady_Savannah
Summary: Benna loves her dreams, loves to explore her private fantasy realms. But suddenly she can only dream of one place, a world full of magic and danger. She falls in with a strange collective named the Inquisition, and as it and the people of Thedas become more and more real to her, her life in the real world becomes less and less important. Where is the line between dreams and waking? What is real? A certain handsome blond makes her want to cross the line altogether. If this is a dream, maybe she doesn't want to wake up?





	1. In Which Dreams Disobey

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first FanFic! I have a good idea of where she's going, but I'm learning about Benna just as much as you. ConCrit and helpful advice always welcome.
> 
> Much Love
> 
> The Lady S

Benna knew she was dreaming. As she walked through the peaceful fields, she took the time to appreciate the details her sleeping mind had conjured up; from the roughness of the grass against her ankles to the warmth of sunlight on her skin and even the mingled scents of woodsmoke and grass. Everything around her seemed completely real. _Maybe a little too real_ she mused, wrinkling her nose at the smell of manure wafting with force from a large cow-like animal behind a fence. 

Her lucid dreams were her favourite part of sleep; she had been on many adventures and made many friends over the years. Like a video game, only better. She was always aware and in control of herself in her dreams, and even able to control the land around her to a certain degree. When she discussed her dreams with others as a child, she had been surprised to learn that not everyone could simply send nightmares away. But no nightmares or strange events made themselves known, so as she relaxed on her walk she just enjoyed the silence filled with the tiny noises of animals and insects living their lives, oblivious to her passing by. Unwilling to speak to anyone and break the moment, she avoided the wood and thatch farmhouses and aimed for the large pond she could see glinting at the base of a steep hill. 

After ambling over to the edge of the water, Benna knelt down to take a sip of water from the pool. She briefly froze in surprise when she glimpsed her reflection, before smiling down at the almost-familiar face. Her features were her own but subtly changed. The same heart-shaped face and pale skin, the same long slender nose and, honestly rather thin lips. But her hair was brighter, shimmering with red and orange tints among the blonde, and much longer too as she could now feel the weight of it cascading down to her hips. _It's a good thing this is just a dream._ She mused to her rippling reflection _In real life, this would be unmanageable._ Her eyes too were different. Instead of her usual pale blue, her eyes were much darker, almost a navy, and her lashes felt longer. 

After a smile at herself and a quick sip of water, Benna stood back to admire the wetlands plants dotted around the pond and the shimmers of sunlight over the waterfall in the far distance. _Honestly, I couldn't have imagined a nicer place to escape to for a little while. Maybe I'll be able to come back here instead of dreaming about_ work _again_. After gazing around the little valley and steep hills for a few moments more, Benna turned and continued on her way, past the last of the farmhouses and down a steep slope with a glint of water at the bottom. 

The river made itself known with the muted roaring of the small waterfall at its head, and Benna sighed with a bit of relief as she stepped into the cooler shadows of the river's gorge. _It's all very well having pale skin_ she'd often told her friends _but it does mean that you can't enjoy the sun for more than five minutes._ She felt a pang of sadness thinking of Rose, Charity and Dylan; it had been so long since she'd been able to see them. She remembered bright, sparkling evenings with glasses of wine and a terrible film ignored in the background, of plans gone wrong and adventures gone right. She remembered laughter and gossip and unreserved affection both given and received. Her sigh was verging on maudlin, but she pushed away the sadness in favour of removing her slippers to wade barefoot into the water. The cool contrast between the warm sun and chilly water made her shudder. Leaving her slippers on the bank, she turned to wade towards the falls. She suddenly remembered a day long ago, dancing in the sea-spray somewhere sunny with her mother, laughing and squealing when a particularly large wave reared up and soaked them both...

Her mother had been her everything. Benna looked completely unlike her, light to her mother's dark eyes and hair, except for the thin, bladed nose. They had also been very unlike each other in personality; Benna was quiet and introspective, whereas her mother was fierce and flashing. She had danced through life, laughing at boundaries and strife, bringing her golden daughter along with her. Benna had loved every moment, laughing with delight at her mother's careless grins and the mischevious glint in her eye that meant 'I've just had a marvellous idea.'. Then they would swoop off to another challenge, another game, always somehow landing on their feet with no idea how they got there. _Oh Mama, I miss you..._

She was lost in her memories and watching her feet, trying not to turn an ankle on the stony riverbed, when the first bone-chilling shriek echoed off the walls of the canyon. Startled, she looked up and found herself face to face with a floating bundle of rags. It emitted a palpable aura of cold, and that horrible scream came again from the empty hood. Behind it, the air shimmered green and flickered like the sky in her bad dreams.

"Not tonight thank you." She told it haughtily "I'm not here for a nightmare, so you can just... melt away." The hood cocked as if regarding her, but it didn't disappear. Benna frowned and concentrated harder, trying to force the dream to obey her as it usually did, but her focus was shattered when an answering shriek came from across the river. Benna tried to turn and back away from the Dementor-ish thing, but a hard impact and spreading chill across her back shoved her forwards into it. Her hands came up to catch her fall and she braced herself to land face first into the river. The rags gave under her hands, but under the cold, her fingers felt something... hard yet slimy. As she made contact, Benna felt a wave of grief and hopelessness roll through her, but her disgust was stronger. She yanked her hands away from the thing and fell sideways, hitting the stones hidden under the shallows.

 _This is not how my dream is supposed to go!_ She hissed as the water drenched her and her knee and hip took the impact of the fall, trying to scramble to her feet and get out of the increasingly-cold water. She felt another impact, like a snowball with a rock inside it, and the cold slowed her movements enough that not one but two ragged figures floated around her when she finally managed to straighten up. Determined now, and starting to panic, Benna made to push past one and reach the bank, but as soon as her hand made contact that same wave of hopelessness swirled up inside her. But much, much stronger.

She found herself crouching in a ball, up to her flanks in freezing water, sobbing her grief and despair as the, the... _things_ continued to circle. They reminded her of cats with a new toy, or gladiators with a wounded lion, pacing and poking to make sure she wasn't a threat. Behind them, several more figures, blue and ghostly with only a vague human form, flicked into existence and formed a ring around her. Forcing down the grief, she tried to find a way out, turning this way and that, while her mind screamed at her to _Wake up idiot! It's just a dream!_ A sudden shout distracted her, and she turned to the opposite bank of the river to see three... no four people dashing down it towards her. The moment of distraction cost her, and she was hit again, this time with a sustained blast of freezing that told her that the cats had finished playing.

Benna stumbled and fell, her eyes on the people still running and slipping down the bank. Risking themselves to help her. She met the eyes of the woman in the lead. Her dark hair and determined eyes reminded Benna forcibly of her mother. As their eyes locked, she vaguely registered that the other woman carried a sword and shield. Strange, even for one of her dreams. A sudden fear hit her, and she managed to scream "No! Stay back!" before her panic overwhelmed her and she felt a tearing pain across her shoulders and everything went dark.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes slammed open and she immediately resisted the impulse to jerk upright, cautious as always of disturbing Hunter as he slept beside her. She lay still, eyes roving over their familiar room; the curtains that fell to the floor, green bedclothes and the dim outline of the door that showed that Hunter had left the hall light on again. Her panicked heartbeat began to slow, and as she relaxed she listened to his soft snores and the sound of the wind outside - they always slept with the window a little open, because it helped him sleep. She suddenly realised that at some point he'd stolen the covers, and the cold night air had left her covered in goosebumps. _Well, that solves that, doesn't it._ Benna stifled a smile at the silly fantasies her sleeping mind had conjured up from nothing, and started to turn over to try to steal them back.

A painful twinge in her back, just below her shoulder blades made her wince and freeze _good choice of words there, haha_ for a moment. Frowning, she carefully sat up and reached to touch the area. Nothing, just the usual smooth skin broken by the slightly raised lines of her tattoo. _I must have pulled a muscle or slept on a nerve._ And now, of course, she needed to get up.

Five minutes later, and a little colder, she tiptoed back to bed and gently tugged some of the bedcovers away from Hunter. _Better try and get some more sleep; work tomorrow. I hope I can go back and dream about that farm, it was so peaceful..._ She eventually managed to drift off again, while trying to remember whether the tallest mountain was the one with the waterfall, or if it was the one on the left...


	2. In Which One Conversation Confuses Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benna meets a few people, and everyone is confused.

Hearing the shuffle of feet and the murmurs of voices around her, Benna realised that she was dreaming again. A quick sniff and she knew she was back by the farms from before. She cracked an eye open and squinted when the hot sun blinded her for a moment. Throwing a hand up to cover her eyes, she took a deep breath and went to sit up. "Hey now, careful," A voice said gently. Benna peeked out from under her hand to find a man with a kind face looking down at her, one hand reached out as if to push her back to the ground. Her sun-blinded eyes had difficulty seeing details, but his helmet and armour were clear enough, as was the shortsword and bow he carried.

He smiled gently and asked "Are you alright? You're safe now; the Herald and her companions killed the demons." Her eyes widened and she jerked upright, scrabbling away from the young man. "Demons? They were just a piece of my nightmares! No one else should have been able to see them!" When his eyes widened in turn, she frowned at him "Hey, everyone has nightmares you know. It's not my fault you saw them; my dreams are usually very well behaved." She suddenly realised that she was arguing with a heavily-armed man and shut her mouth with a snap, pulling herself into a ball to keep out of arms reach. 

His eyes wide, he held his hand out in a restraining gesture, attempting to calm her, before getting up and moving over to a beautiful willowy woman in slightly scuffed armour. Benna watched him put his fist to his heart in some sort of salute before her mind wandered and she became more interested in watching as a campsite came to life around her. They were on the opposite bank of the large-ish pool she had drunk from before, and there suddenly seemed to be soldiers everywhere. Large, 6-man tents were being put up, a firepit was being dug and lined with stones, some sort of pack animal was being brushed...

Benna tried to stay still and small and quiet as she observed the group. They seemed to be mostly human, but several of them had pointed ears and sharp cheekbones, like the woman the soldier had saluted, while one or two others were obviously full-grown but only half the size of the humans they worked with. _Elves and dwarves, of course. Might as well indulge in the fantasy while it lasts. Still better than dreaming about work._

She noticed a few points of stillness in the swirl of controlled chaos the soldiers made. A tall bald elf stood half hidden behind one of the completed tents, leaning casually on a walking stick. He seemed to be observing her, but his body language indicated that he was content to merely watch. She wrinkled her nose at him when their eyes met wishing he'd stop staring, and she looked away to the odd pair by the newly-finished firepit. One was clearly a dwarf, apparently wearing a chainmail shirt he'd stolen from an unsuspecting human. If the amount of chest hair he had on display was any indication. He was knelt in front of the ring of stones, building a small pyramid of kindling from the pile that had just been delivered by a soldier, all the while chattering at the stern woman at his side.

The woman was the same one whose eyes Benna had met earlier; dark hair, dark eyes and a stoic expression. Though as Benna watched, the corner of her mouth quirked up at something the dwarf said, quickly returning to blank scepticism before he saw the smile. She was in the middle of cleaning a sword, and the paint on the round shield at her side was scratched. Benna glanced around and realised that she was the only person around without a weapon of some kind, and a small shiver ran down her spine. _The people in my dreams are usually nice._

Before she could muse any further, the willow-woman the soldier had been speaking to walked towards her. _Another elf_. She was tall and slender, with a controlled strength evident in her movements. She moved like a dancer, and as she came closer Benna saw that she had a swirling blue tattoo that covered one eye and half of her cheek. She had a bow and quiver attached to her back, and a pair of long daggers on her hips balanced her out. Benna noted that the willow-woman seemed to be greatly respected, from the way the soldiers who still rushed back and forth gave her a wide berth and stood at attention when she stopped one to say something.

She finally stopped in front of Benna and, instead of waiting for her to stand up, the elf simply folded herself gracefully into a sitting position on the ground. Benna tightened her arms around herself, realising that this woman would be the one who decided what they'd do with her. If they'd seen her nightmares, perhaps they wanted to interrogate her or force her away from the farms... As they studied each other, Benna suddenly realised that she was still damp from the river, her short nightdress clinging to her skin and causing a rush of goosebumps. She folded her arms across her chest and glanced up to meet the eyes of the elf-woman sitting across from her.

_She really is beautiful._ Benna thought with a pang of jealousy. The woman's black hair was sleek and shining, completely unlike Benna's unruly mop of curls. _Particularly after that dip in the river_ , she thought wryly. Their eyes met, and Benna was surprised by the colour of the elf's eyes; mossy green with a ring of blue. Her eyelashes were long and dark, her skin a soft caramel colour and her pointed ears peeked out from under her hair. 

To Benna's surprise, the elf broke eye contact first and reached down to the grass to pick a few pieces, twirling them together in her long fingers. She opened her mouth, and Benna braced herself for questions about her nightmares. "Can you understand me?" the woman asked instead, and Benna blew out a breath in surprise. "Uh, of course? Why wouldn't I?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. Instead of answering, the elf turned and gestured over her shoulder at the male elf, who drifted closer. "Solas, you should listen to this." The woman called before turning back to Benna "How did you - a human - come to learn Elven?"

"Elven? But I.. I don't speak Elven!" Benna suddenly realised that she wasn't speaking English. _Ar_ _teldirthan..._ Definitely not English. "Do you speak Common?" The elf woman asked, and Benna noticed that her accent had changed slightly, becoming a little harsher or perhaps rougher. Benna tilted her head, trying to relax and forget about the actual words she spoke. _The logic of dreams..._ "I understand you if that's what you're asking. Will you say something in, in Common please?"

"I just did." 

"Oh. Well, I guess that... Is that a different language? You just changed your accent."

At this, the woman's eyes widened, and she looked up at the man who stood back, listening. "What the Herald is trying to say," he put in smoothly, "is that to us the two languages are very different. I am fluent in both languages, and they have very little in common with each other. You are speaking fluent Elven, without even the borrowed words from Common that elves today typically use. Yet you apparently hear and understand both as if they were one and the same. But the language you use... It's archaic. You are an intriguing puzzle indeed." Benna shivered slightly and glanced away at the look in his eyes. He looked at her as if she was an interesting animal or broken clock, just waiting for him to dissect and prod to find the fault. It was as if he didn't see her as a person at all. He looked over at the other elf "She may be an adopted child. I have heard of a few clans who take in abandoned children, regardless of race. But that is pure speculation, for now."

The... Herald? turned back to Benna. "We saw what happened at the river. I've never seen a spell like that! Are you an apostate? Or did you learn your magic from your Circle?"  


Still bristling a bit at being spoken about as if she wasn't there, Benna gave a disbelieving snort. "Magic? Uh no." Solas' brows rose an inch. _That's the most emotion he's shown._ At the Herald's frown, Benna hastened to explain further "I don't have any magic, I swear! No one else is supposed to be able to see my nightmares; I don't know why they refused to disappear." At that, the eyebrows got higher and the frown got deeper. Benna could feel herself beginning to babble but was unable to stop as she tried to explain. "Usually when the sky is green I can sort of push the nightmares away and make a nicer place to dream but this time they, they didn't and I don't know why and they don't usually touch me there was... something inside the rags... it was so cold. But I honestly don't know why you could see them it's so strange."

By this stage, both elves were staring at her with wide eyes. Benna finally managed to close her mouth, flushing slightly and leaning back a little. _Too much emotion there. They don't need to hear my hysterics._ She dropped her eyes, tucking the mop of wild, damp curls behind her ear while she waiting for one of them to respond. Finally, the Herald said tentatively "I think you _must_ be a mage. Those 'nightmares' were actually demons, which came through the rift in the Veil. You were attacked by two dispair demons and several shades..."

"More to the point," Solas said dryly "Is that you cast a rather large spell before we could reach you. Something that is new to me. It looked like a firestorm, or perhaps some variant on a wall of flames..." He drifted off, obviously trying to explain it better.

Benna interrupted "Oh I guess I never thanked you for saving me! Sorry that was rude."

The Herald smiled. "I think what Solas was trying to say is that you saved _yourself_. All the demons were killed in your spell, so all I really had to do was close the rift." She raised one hand, which sparked with green lightning. "It makes a nice change to not have to do the killing bit first, although I think Cassandra was disappointed." She leaned closer, glancing back at the odd pair by the now-blazing fire and half-whispered "I think she has a bit of a hero complex." Benna tried to smile at the elf's attempt to lighten the moment, but the expression died before it really got going. She could tell that it would be useless to argue with them about her supposed magic, and, honestly, she was beginning to feel the pull of real life. This dream had been interesting, but it was time to wake up. Suddenly, she felt exhausted.

The Herald obviously read some of this in her face, and stood with one fluid motion. She kept talking as she reached out to help Benna to her feet. She didn't catch all of it, but there was an apology and something about talking more later and God be thanked a cot inside a tent. Benna just managed to crawl onto it, and as her eyes closed she heard the Herald say quietly, 

"Welcome to the Inquisition."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be more about Benna and her life as she tries to make sense of the weirdness of her dreams.  
> She ain't seen nothing yet!


	3. In Which Benna Rises and Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER WARNING ***  
> This chapter contains descriptions of verbal and emotional abuse. Please read with caution.
> 
> This chapter was really hard to write. I hate to put my girl through this.

She was warm and comfortable when she awoke. Stretching to release the kink in her shoulders, Benna rolled over and yelped when she saw the time. Hunter must have turned the alarm off before she woke up. Scrambling out of bed, she rushed through her morning shower, leaving her hair half dried and breakfast uneaten. Snatching up her bad and dashing out of the house, she just managed to catch her bus as it rolled down the hill, and half collapsed on the closest empty seat in relief. She hated being late for anything, especially work. She remembered how Charity would laugh at her trying to rush them to meet another friend "Why are we hurrying? You know he'll be late!" But to Benna, it wasn't so much about how other people felt, it was about herself. Being late meant that you hadn't planned enough, weren't prepared enough or had lost control of something. She used to do the same thing with her mother, pulling her by the hand along the pavement to make sure they got wherever they were going exactly on time.

With a 30 minute journey ahead of her, she was finally able to think about her dreams. Usually, they faded to vague impressions and general plotlines when she woke up, but this one remained with every detail crystal clear, right down to the shade of the Herald's eyes. _I don't think I've ever dreamed of elves and dwarves before. They aren't really how I imagined them._ She shivered to recall the nightmares that had intruded on the peaceful farmlands and then snorted as she remembered the elves insistence on her 'magic'. _As if I could have magic. I'm about the least special person ever. That cow-thing is more likely to have magic than me._

Still, there was something about the dream that refused to let her forget it, and she found herself mulling it over for most of the ride to work. The Herald's last words, in particular, struck a chord. Inquisition. _Why would I have dreamed of the Spanish Inquisition? And with elves in it?_ But wasn't that the name of a game Hunter had played once? She vaguely recalled him ranting over the mechanics and 'boring story'. Impulsively, she got out her phone and googled 'Herald Inquisition'. Her eyes widened as more and more information popped up and she started skimming through the various articles. She stopped in shock when she saw a reference to the Herald of Andraste's 'mark' that glowed with green lightning and could close 'rifts in the Veil', whatever that meant. _But how did I dream about a game I've never seen?_ Perhaps she'd absorbed more from Hunter's talk than she remembered. _Still weird._

She was so absorbed in her research, down the rabbit hole of Elven lore, that she almost missed her stop. Forcibly shoving the dream from her mind, she stepped into the large department store she worked in, and the day snapped into the usual routine of stock and customers and small, petty issues. One woman was convinced that her moisturiser had been tampered with, and another was insisting on returning a shirt with missing buttons, even without a receipt. Benna was nominated to deal with all the irate customers; her colleagues were convinced that her 'sweet smile' made them like her more. She just thought that those kinds of people liked sympathy and ran out of steam when she agreed with everything they said.

After listening to the shirt woman argue at her for over half an hour, eventually sending her off with assurances that she would indeed be speaking to Head Office about this, Benna finally managed to escape to the break room for five minutes to relax. She slumped down onto one of the soft-hard padded chairs and took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted. _I guess that dream wasn't as restful as I could have wanted. Hopefully, I'll get better sleep tonight._ Her eyes snapped open ( _When did I close them?_ ) when the shop manager walked in. Philipa smiled at her before asking "What was that all about?"

"Oh, you know the usual. She tore the buttons off and wanted a full refund. I don't understand how people can be so entitled." They chatted for a while about the shortcomings of customers, Philipa even shared how embarrassed she had been with her mother for creating a similar situation. Eventually, Benna stood to get back to work, but as she turned to the door Philipa stopped her. "Do you think you could come and see me after your shift? I'd like to talk to you about something." Benna stopped in surprise, but with a smile hiding her sudden unease, agreed and hurried back to the shop floor and the next problem.

For the rest of the day, Benna worried over what Philipa could possibly want. The thought was like a loose tooth; it upset her but she couldn't stop prodding at it just to see if it felt better this time. It never did. As her shift finally ended and she smiled goodbye to her last customer, she ducked back into the break room to neaten her hair, smoothed her shirt in a nervous gesture and took a quick gulp of water. As she neared Philipa's office, she couldn't help running through what might be wrong; she knew she'd not done anything wrong herself, but perhaps a customer had made a complaint? Maybe they were moving her to a different department or - her eyes widened - maybe they were sacking her? By the time she reached the door, Benna's anxiousness had overwhelmed her and she simply stood there, unable to knock.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Philipa suddenly threw the door open and almost dashed through, crashing into Benna with such force that they both staggered and clutched at each other to keep from falling. Benna ended up with both hands gripped Philipa's arms, while Philipa seized her shoulders. "Oh, Benna! I thought you'd forgotten! I was just coming to find you before you went home." laughed Philipa as she regained her balance. Ignoring Benna's stammering attempts at an apology for the collision, she just waved her into her office and closed the door behind them. "Sit, sit! Don't worry about that it was my fault anyway." Philipa waved a hand dismissively. "I wanted to give you some good news. Have you heard that Mark is retiring next month?" Mark was Benna's department supervisor. He was a calm and kind man, with high standards for neatness and customer care. When Benna agreed that, yes she had heard about his retirement, Philipa smiled happily. "Good! Then this won't come as a shock to you. We're promoting you to his position when he leaves! You'll have some time for him to train you before he goes...."

There was a lot more, but Benna had stopped listening. They wanted to... promote her? She felt a wide smile creep across her face as she realised that they must believe that she'd been doing a good job and that they had to trust her. Her department was the largest within the shop, so her new role would carry a lot of responsibility. And Hunter would be so proud of her! She couldn't wait to tell him.

Philipa obviously noticed her distraction. "... But we'll talk about all that later." She smiled across her desk at Benna, who shook off her thoughts in an effort to focus enough to thank Philipa for the opportunity. Again, she was waved off. "As if we'd consider anyone else! I'm guessing you'll accept then?" Obviously. Agreeing to meet later in the week to discuss details and look over her new contract, Benna fairly danced out of the office. How silly she had been to worry over nothing!

To make this day even better, her phone bonged as she got on the bus home. It was a long email from Charity, and it was so full of news and jokes and funny twists of language that it was almost like Benna could hear Charity sat beside her. She spent the journey reading and rereading, enjoying being in her friend's pseudo-presence, before she started planning what she would say in reply. Instead of trying to type on the frustratingly-small keypad, she rushed home to write on her laptop instead. She tried to make her reply sound as fun and sparkly as Charity's, reading through it several times. She included the news of her promotion and spent several paragraphs telling her friend how pleased she was and what her new responsibilities would be.

She had just clicked Send and was sitting back to read Charity's email yet again when she heard Hunter's key in the lock. She jumped up to run down to him, excited to tell him her news. "Oh, Hunter! You'll never guess what.." she pulled to a halt the moment she saw his face. His green eyes were hard as stone and glinting with an angry light and his face was creased in a scowl. Benna's heart sank. _Another bad day._

"Is dinner ready?" He growled between his teeth.

"No not yet, I was just about to start," she replied quietly, dropping her eyes. He just pushed past her and up the stairs, hissing " _Useless_." under his breath. Relieved to have avoided an argument, she rushed into the kitchen to begin preparing their evening meal. _Something quick that he'll enjoy..._ Rummaging around in the fridge she found some chicken and a collection of vegetables. Stir-fry it was.

After a few minutes of chopping and frying, she turned around to suddenly find him standing in the kitchen doorway. She gasped in surprise and stopped humming the little song she'd heard on the radio. He didn't say anything, just folded his arms and watched her put the finishing touches to their meal. His brooding presence affected her happy mood like a storm cloud covers the sun, and she sat down to eat in silence.

Hunter took one mouthful and immediately spat it out. "What is this shit?" Benna wiped her cheek where a piece of carrot had hit her. "Stir-fry. I thought you might like something a little spicy today."  
He bared his teeth. "Well, you thought wrong. I wanted steak tonight," he growled at her. "And look you stupid bitch," he speared a piece of chicken on his knife and waved it close to her face. "this chicken ain't even cooked! It's practically raw! What, you tryin' to poison me now?"

Benna put her own cutlery down "No! Hunter of course not I would never-"

"Never?" His voice rose and he waved his arms in agitation, the knife coming dangerously close to her eye. "Oh of course not, the _perfect princess_ would never stoop so low! You'd just try an' feed me shit and raw chicken 'till I starved to death! Or, what, you so useless that you can't even cook right?"

By now Benna was almost in tears. She sat hunched in her chair, not daring to move or let her tears fall, knowing that it would only make it worse. Hunter continued to shout; "... But do you ever care about what I want? No!" He saw her blink back tears and sneered at her "... An' now you're cryin', of course. Any time you get the least bit o' criticism the waterworks appear. Well, your emotional blackmail don't work on me, bitch." Benna wanted desperately to curl up into a ball but tried to stay as still as possible. She kept her eyes on Hunter, barely even flinching when he threw his bowl against the wall. She lept to her feet and disappeared through the back door with his last words ringing in her ears; "Get out of my sight you worthless slut."

\---------------------------------------------------------

  
Benna burst out of the door and into the little garden, not stopping until she reached the deep shadows beside the small shed. She leaned back against the rough wooden wall and let the tears fall. He was right, he was right she should have asked him what he wanted, especially since she'd known he'd had a bad day from the moment he got home. She should have checked the chicken properly, she shouldn't have rushed to serve something that was half raw...

When they'd met, she'd been overwhelmed by his charm. A native Texan living in the UK, he'd been exotic and interesting. He'd bewitched her with his 'Southern manners' and laughing green eyes. All her friends had agreed that he was gorgeous, and Rose had gushed over how caring he was towards Benna. He'd had a ready laugh and easy smile, and the sight of his tousled brown hair and low slung jeans had set her heart racing. Slowly, that had changed. His work had got more and more stressful and although Benna tried to make things easier on him at home, she often fell short. Now his laughter and charm had mostly vanished. _That's my fault,_ she moaned to herself. _If only I was better, I could help him relax again..._

She heard him slam the back door closed but didn't look towards the house, still remonstrating with herself over her carelessness. As her tears dried, she found herself thankful that she'd been so absorbed self-absorbed, in replying to Charity's email that she'd forgotten to even take off her shoes. _Another thing I did wrong,_ she thought, hoping her shoes hadn't left marks on the clean carpet. Suddenly feeling the night's chill, she started walking around the garden, around and around, staring at the stars in an effort to pass the time and forget about herself for a little while.

Eventually, she walked over to the back door; she needed to eat something, even if she hadn't cooked the chicken properly. When she tried the handle however, her heart sank. He'd locked her out of the house again. Sighing, she turned and almost tripped over her black work bag. Hunter must have thrown it out after her. Still, it meant that she had her phone. Checking the time, she winced at the low battery, but she didn't keep a charger in her bag, or have anywhere to plug it in for that matter. Hoping it would last the night, she picked up her bag and turned back to the tiny shed.

At the door, she knelt down and retrieved the key hidden under a pot. They kept sun loungers in there for the rare sunny days, to relax on. She could sleep on one of those. Benna shut and bolted the door behind her, set her bag down and went to fetch the picnic blanket from a shelf. Everything was a bit musty and covered in cobwebs, but she willed herself to ignore the insects, shaking out the blanket and laying it over the nearest lounger.

She was just about to try and settle for the night when she remembered that she had an energy bar in her work bag. Grabbing it, she sat in the lounger and tried not to feel the cold that grew as the night deepened. Finishing the bar was difficult without water, but she managed.

Setting an alarm for work, she lay back on the lounger and tried to forget the evening. Her mind flicked through the events of the day until she found herself thinking again about her strange dream. _I wish I did have magic. I'd be able to warm myself at the very least._ Benna smiled at the memory of the 'Inquisition' and sleepily considered the coincidence. Perhaps she should play the game... Under the musty blanket, listening to the rising wind rattling at the door, she finally started to feel warm, and she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I am not writing this from personal experience. If you feel that I haven't written these sections with enough sensitivity, please do let me know. Hunter is not based on a real person, and his actions are somewhat exaggerated for literary effect.  
> And if your partner or family member (male or female) acts in any way similar to Hunter, please get help. No one deserves to be treated that way. We are here for you.
> 
> The Lady S


	4. In Which A Weird Breakfast Is Eaten

When Benna opened her eyes it was to see a brownish-red fabric over her head instead of the cobwebby roof she had expected. She frowned, wondering where she was before she suddenly remembered the tent and cot the Inquisition had given her in her dreams. She concentrated on the image of Aladdin's cave, hoping for something other than soldiers and demons to fill her night. Nothing happened, except she started to get a headache. It seemed that she'd be continuing with this silly story for another night then.

Hearing the bustle of a busy camp, she sighed and sat up, suddenly realising that she was wearing the same short nightdress she'd had on last night. A bit of a flush came to her cheeks when she realised that she'd been sitting there in full view while she talked to the Herald. There were a few chests in the tent, but she was reluctant to rifle through someone else's belongings. Rummaging instead through the fur blankets on the cot she'd slept on, she found the thinnest, most flexible one and wrapped it around her, tying a knot over one shoulder Grecian-style. _There. That's decent enough for now anyway._ After fumbling a little with the ties, she braced herself for more foolishness about her 'magic' and stepped out of the tent into the cool morning.

Again, the impression of controlled chaos surrounded her. The soldiers were all busy at different tasks; some were out of armour and washing in the pond, others were sparring with swords and daggers and yet more were gathered in a group around the Herald, listening intently to whatever she was saying. The smell of food coming from a nearby fire made Benna's mouth water and she abruptly remembered that she hadn't had any dinner to speak of. _I wonder if dream food can make you feel full._ She stood in the shadows beside the tent, trying to find a quiet spot in the midst of all this aggressive activity. Judging by the sun, it was far too early for this amount of energy.

Still undecided, she lingered a moment too long. A soldier spotted her in passing and shouted across the camp "Herald! She's awake!" Benna cringed as what seemed to be every eye in the camp turned to her, in her improvised dress. She wished she'd never left the tent. The Herald looked up immediately, and, with a final word to the group, bounced across the camp with a huge smile. Apparently, she was a morning person. "Hello! Good morning. I hope you slept well and feel much better today." Benna smiled as she realised that the Herald was apparently pleased to see her up and about. She drew in a breath to reply, but the elf continued without waiting for an answer. "You look much better today... less pale and drawn. I realised in the middle of the night that I never asked for your name or introduced myself! I'm so sorry that was really rude of me to start questioning you without even basic manners. My name's Evelynne but people are starting to call me the Herald of Andraste which honestly doesn't feel like me at all so please call me Evelynne. What's your name?"

Benna waited a moment for the elf to pass out. It seemed like she hadn't taken a breath for the entirety of that speech. When it didn't happen, she smiled again and replied: "I'm Benna." She flinched and cringed away when she heard Solas speak in her ear;

"Benna? That's not a name I have heard before. What does it mean?"

She sidled away from him, sliding along the tent wall until she could see them both. "It means many things, actually." She informed him. "In some languages, it means _good_ or _beautiful_. In another it means _determined._ "

He didn't seem happy with that for some reason, but the Herald interrupted. Honestly, the woman was like a puppy, full of bouncing energy and enthusiasm. Grabbing Benna by the hand, she pulled her away from Solas and into the sunshine, talking all the while. "Well, Benna I'm very pleased to meet you! Come and have breakfast and we'll talk. I saved you some, or at least I asked Scout Harding to earlier. We even had eggs this morning! The horsemaster's wife was kind enough to sell us a dozen or so and I think someone shot a rabbit this morning so there should be plenty."

Benna found herself suddenly sitting on a log beside the fire, awkwardly balancing a plate full of the strangest breakfast she'd ever had, along with a knife, spoon and a tin mug that steamed with something that smelled of leaves. As she juggled all that, she also became aware of her makeshift dress coming undone and had to make a choice about whether to save her breakfast or her dignity. Breakfast won, and she ended up with the blanket bunched around her waist and her bra-less nightdress on display. _Oh well, nothing they didn't all get to see yesterday._

As Benna poked tentatively at the meat on her plate, Evelynne was still talking. "We're part of the Inquisition. We're trying to help the people who are stuck with everything that's been going on. Honestly, between the apostates, rogue Templars, demons, rifts and even reports of a _dragon_ , I'm impressed that anyone's survived. We're doing what we can to pacify the area and begin rebuilding, but it's hard, especially since their Divine died at the Conclave. But we've made a start." she concluded, leaning back on her hands with a contented sigh. Benna, caught with her mouth full, could only nod and reach for her drink so she could answer. When she took a swig however, she was distracted by the taste. It tasted exactly how it smelled. Of wet leaves and dirt. Evelynne noticed the look on her face and laughed. "I know it isn't a patch on real tea, but we'll get the trade routes open soon. Hopefully, we'll get something palatable then. For now, at least it's hot." Benna nodded emphatically. Tea was a necessity.

"Do you want me to comb your hair?" Evelynne asked suddenly, after a few moments of silence. Benna could only blink at her in surprise, and the elf flushed. Even the tips of her pointed ears went pink. "I used to do it a lot for the children in my clan, and it seems like it's bothering you." Benna went pink in turn as she realised that she'd been pulling at her hair for a little while now, and her fingers were tangled in a knot. Retrieving her hand with difficulty, she looked over at the elf and smiled. "Would you please? It's a terrible mess since I went swimming in the river, and I don't think I'll be able to get all the knots out myself." The Herald looked delighted and sprang up to fetch her comb. Benna took the final bite of the tough bread that came with breakfast and set her plate aside in favour of the dirt drink. As Evelynne said, at least it was hot.

As they settled in, Benna wrapped her fingers around the mug and tried her best to answer the Herald as she gently teased out the knots. Yes, this was her natural hair. No, she didn't really like the curls because they refused to behave. "But it's so pretty!" Evelynne exclaimed. "It's so..."

"Wild," said Benna firmly. When she said that she usually kept it cut a lot shorter than the waist-length it currently was just to keep it contained, Evelynne's eyes widened. "Oh, you mustn't do that! Here, I'll show you how to braid it to keep it out of your face." Quickly but gently, she gathered all of Benna's curls and twisted them into a tight and intricate braid, tying it off with a piece of thread. Benna smiled up at her over her shoulder. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of her like this. It felt... nice. Evelynne smiled back, before moving to her abandoned seat on the log next to Benna's.

"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to join the Inquisition. We honestly need everyone we can get if we're going to close the Breach. And with magic like yours..." Benna hid her face behind her mug as she frowned. This again? She was about to protest that she really, honestly, didn't have magic, when she realised that she _liked_ Evelynne. If she refused, or convinced the elf that she really didn't have any magic, she would be really disappointed. She didn't like disappointing people, even in dreams. Where was the harm in going along with this, at least for tonight? _Plus, maybe they'll even give me some real clothes,_ she thought wryly, trying to readjust her furry toga. "I'll help." she interrupted Evelynne. "I'd like to join and help for as long as I can." The elf grinned and her eyes sparkled with delight. The puppy energy returned as she bounced up from the log-chair.

"Well, come on then! We need to get you a horse, we'll be leaving for Haven this afternoon... Oh, and we should probably find you some clothes too." It was if she'd forgotten what Benna was wearing until she stood up awkwardly, holding the edges of the blanket to keep from flashing everyone in the camp. They grinned at each other in amusement, before Evelynne grabbed her hand and started to pull her back towards Benna's tent. All the exuberance vanished when a strong, heavily accented female voice called over.

"Herald! A moment please!" It was the dark haired woman Benna had seen yesterday. With more time to observe her, it was obvious that she was a tightly-controlled bundle of energy, just waiting to lash out at the world. She was several inches shorter than Benna's 5 foot 8 frame, solid but not fat. In fact, there wasn't an inch of softness on her anywhere that Benna could see, except perhaps for her lips, which formed a perfect cupid's bow. Her thick hair was cut short and braided around her crown, and everything about her, from the way she stood to the scars on her face, fairly screamed that she was a warrior. The sword she'd been carrying the day before was nowhere to be seen, but Benna still shrank from her as those flashing black eyes evaluated her in turn - and found her wanting, if the look of disapproval on her face was any indication.

"Of course, Cassandra." Benna did a double take. All of Evelynne's cheerful energy had vanished. She had dropped Benna's hand and folded her hands in front of her as Cassandra approached. She had also politely switched to Common, since her accent had changed. It was if Evelynne had disappeared, and all that remained was the Herald, devoid of personality. Evelynne gestured towards Benna. "If you'll give me a few moments, I'll outfit our newest member as benefits the Inquisition and be out to speak with you directly."

"Of course," Cassandra replied after a moment. The Herald inclined her head slightly, and shooed Benna into the tent.

"Honestly, that woman," Evelynne mumbled in Elven as she threw open a trunk. "She scares the _etua_ out of me. She locked me in a cell! And now I'm supposed to trust her?" She threw several items onto the cot while Benna made vague agreement noises. "I know they sent her with me to keep an eye on me; all they really want me for is _this!_ " She waved her marked hand under Benna's nose. "The others are fine, friendly even in their way, but she just acts like she doesn't want to be bothered... There. Smalls, breastband, socks, shirt, jacket, trousers and boots. I'm not sure how well they'll all fit, but I'm afraid we don't have many options just now." Benna smiled at her.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. You should go talk to her; I'll be out in a little bit."

"And then we can look at horses!" Evelynne said with a grin, before she swirled out of the tent to talk to Cassandra. _She really is high energy. I bet Cassandra's just exhausted from trying to keep up with her._

As Benna reached for the strange underwear, _No underwires here_ , she realised that the two women hadn't moved away from the tent. "Now that our new friend has been given the kindness and consideration she deserves," Was Benna imagining the slight emphasis? "...I am at your disposal, Seeker."

"It was about our newest recruit that I wished to speak," Cassandra replied. Benna decided that she didn't want to hear this. She tried to distract herself with examining the clothes Evelynne had given her, but as she struggled into the form-fitting leather trousers, their voices rose.

"You cannot deny that it is foolish to extend such trust to a stranger! We barely know anything about her. How can she help us if she doesn't even understand Common?"

"That's where you're wrong, Seeker." Smugness in the Herald's voice. "She _does_ understand Common - perfectly well, in fact. It's not her fault that you don't understand Elven. And as for trusting her, she's been nothing but polite and open since she woke, and I would like to get her to Haven as soon as possible. So she _will_ be travelling with us and Mother Giselle, she _will_ be given a horse and she _will_ be granted the same respect you would offer to anyone willing to risk their lives for your...our cause."

There was a long pause.

"As you will it, Herald. But do not ask me to trust her. And I will be watching."

Silence fell, and Benna blew out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding. It seemed that acceptance into the Inquisition took more than the Herald's approval. _I hope I don't make things worse for her..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Quizzy is apparently channelling Sera in this chapter. I did not expect her to be like this, but she isn't changing. Even if I ask nicely. I dread to think about what's going to happen when they meet...
> 
> Elven;
> 
> Oh come on, you can work it out.


	5. In Which an Antivan Lady Chooses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get Varric to talk about himself a bit, but he would only focus on Benna. I think his curiosity was far too strong to talk about himself.
> 
> Sorry; I'll try again when she's not around.

Varric watched from his place beside the pond as the Seeker stomped away from her argument with the Herald. He chuckled to himself; it looked as if the Herald had put Cassandra firmly in her place. Though the Seeker was stubborn. It was unlikely that a social snub or even an order would move her from her chosen path. And neither of them had remembered that tents blocked sight but not sound. He wondered if they'd kept their voices low enough that the new mage hadn't heard them arguing about her. Doubtful.

He felt a little bit of vindication when the blonde mage emerged from the tent in her borrowed clothes. The expression on her face told anyone who was willing to look that she'd heard everything and was worried. But honestly, she seemed worried about everything, flinching anytime someone came near. Except the Herald. Varric was itching to meet her and see who she really was under that wild hair, but so far he hadn't had the opportunity. She'd only spoken to the Herald and Chuckles so far, and they'd somehow managed to keep even the soldiers from coming too near.

Perhaps that was on purpose. He watched as the new mage visibly flinched from anyone who got too close as the Herald practically dragged her across the camp towards Varric, chattering all the while. And that was another thing. The Herald acted differently around her. How was it that this new mage, whom none of them had ever met, got real, genuine smiles out of their Herald? Varric had tried on the journey down to the Hinterlands, but for all his jokes and playful sarcasm he'd only got polite smiles and quiet replies. No real laughter. He couldn't fathom it.

When they pulled to a stop, literally, in front of him, he raised an eyebrow. "Ahh, the mysterious lady mage with a firestorm spell. And her glorious Heraldyness. What can I do for you two lovely ladies?"

"Varric, this is Benna. We're going up to Dennet's to look into picking up some horses for the ride back to Haven. We'll need one for Mother Giselle too. Would you care to join us?" Back to the polite and formal Herald for the dwarf.

Surprised and a bit flattered, Varric smiled up at them both. "Benna is it? Good to meet you. Varric Tethras at your service. I'm the Inquisition's unofficial chronicler and observer of human nature. With hair like yours, you should be on the cover of a novel."

Bena blushed slightly and smiled back. She answered in... wait, was that Elven? Fluent too. What the hell?

The Herald giggled, then translated. "She said that she didn't realise a bard needed a crossbow as big as himself to write. Or is it just for sleeping with?" She coloured and stammered a bit. "Uh, sorry Varric, my translation is a little clunky..." He laughed out loud, already wondering how to put this new mage in a book.

"Nah. I keep Bianca around to make sure no one disturbs me when I'm writing. She scares off most things." Benna grinned at him and held out her hand to shake. Strange that she could understand him but not answer. "In any case, I'd like to see if that horsemaster has anything suited to a dwarf. Let's go."

As the three of them strolled up the short rise, Varric couldn't keep his curiosity at bay. "So what's with the Elven? Did you grow up speaking it or...?" Benna shrugged. Okay. Either 'I don't know' or 'it's complicated'. "Do you speak Common?" A shake of the head. Weirder and weirder. Even Dalish elves spoke Common nowadays. "What happened to you to get yourself into the middle of a pack of demons?" That got him a flat look that said he was acting stupid. Why ask the questions if he couldn't understand the answer? Still, she turned to the Herald and said something in a liquid ripple of syllables. She waved her hands around while she talked. Good. Body language is always helpful.

The Herald listened, then turned to Varric. "She says she doesn't really know what happened. She was walking through the farms and down to the river. She waded in, and came face to face with one of the despair demons. Then we arrived." _This is gonna get awkward, fast._

"Do you think you can learn Common? It's got to be annoying, and you've only just started." A shrug. Then a gesture towards him, waving one hand over an open palm. Amazingly, it took him a second. "Oh. Reading. Writing. You think seeing the language written down would help? That's... quite brilliant actually. I'll get you a copy of Tale of the Champion. One of my finest works." She grinned down at him, wrinkling her nose. She said yet another incomprehensible thing, but her tone and gestures got the point across. 'Such a modest dwarf.' "Eh, I don't see the point in modesty. Everyone already knows I'm the best. I wouldn't have been conscripted into this happy little band otherwise. Right, Herald?"

The Herald frowned. "Honestly, I think that's a conversation for you and Cassandra to have. When I'm not there. Preferably while I'm hiding behind a tree." Benna snorted and giggled. Andreste's toasty tootsies, even her _laugh_ sounded Elven somehow. They reached the farmhouse, and the Herald went inside to discuss things with the horsemaster, leaving Varric and Benna eyeing each other a bit awkwardly. "So... you ever ridden a horse before?" A contemptuous look. "Right, right. But I don't think the Herald has." A raised eyebrow. "I mean, the Dalish usually ride Halla, right? Or those caravan things." Benna looked a little surprised, but answered with a gesture and another lyrical phrase. Probably meaning 'She'll be fine.'

Suddenly, the Herald popped her head out of the door. A hint of her earlier exuberance with Benna showed as she grinned at them. "Come on! Master Dennet has a few horses in mind for us, let's go and meet them!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Benna was enchanted by the small ranch. She'd always loved horses, and her mother had taken her on several treks on horseback, sometimes for days at a time, in the wild places of the world. She hadn't been able to ride recently, money had been tight, but she couldn't wait to meet her horse. She followed the Herald and a gruff man who must be Master Dennet around the main house and towards a stable large enough to hold eight horses. There was a small herd in the large pen further on, and she could see that they were all healthy and beautifully cared for.

"Have you ridden a horse before?" She asked Evelynne, "Varric said you might not have."

"Well, no." The elf replied in Common. "I've ridden halla, but they're much smaller and we generally let them choose the path we take. But how different can a horse be?" Very. thought Benna wryly. The Herald might be surprised, especially if she wasn't used to directing the animal. She heard Varric chuckle and glanced sideways to catch his eye. They shared a moment of sympathy and amusement for the Herald's upcoming education before she turned to inspect the horse Master Dennet had brought out.

She was a neat chestnut-coloured mare, with darker points and a black mane and tail. She looked calm and relaxed, flicking her ears back and forth to listen to their voices while she chewed on the bit. Evelynne suddenly looked a little nervous, and turned to ask Benna in Elven, "You've ridden before, right? What should I do?" Benna smiled and showed the Herald how to greet the horse, the correct way to approach, and how to inspect a horse's fitness for riding. Together, they inspected the mare's eyes, hooves, teeth and tack, making sure nothing could hurt either horse or rider.

Once Benna had indicated her approval of the Herald's mount, they moved on to her own. Her hopes were a little dashed when Dennet brought out a subdued-looking gelding. He was a little larger than the mare, but with none of the spark of interest she had. He was handsome, with a black coat and white socks and a white blaze across his face, but she could see already that she'd have to be after him half the day just to get him moving. Dubiously, she looked over at the horsemaster, who had the grace to look a bit embarrassed.

"I'd chosen him because the Herald said she didn't know your skills with horses. But just from that right proper checking you gave the mare, I can see you're not a beginner. I'll save him for a new rider, or the Revered Mother. Why don't you go into the paddock and introduce yourself? See who wants to go with you?"

Benna nodded eagerly and nearly lept the fence. There were about 12 curious horses and she approached each one, rubbing foreheads and patting necks. But none of them seemed interested in leaving their comfortable field, turning back to the grass or returning to observe the others. Benna was starting to lose hope, when she looked up and found a long nose investigating her hair. The nose belonged to a beautiful palomino mare. She had finer lines than most of the horses Benna had seen so far; closer to an Arab, made to run. She looked like she was made of movement, and her coat shimmered like liquid gold in the sun.

Woman and horse inspected each other for a few moments, and then the mare tried again to eat the end of Benna's braid. With a giggle, she flipped it back over her shoulder and put her palm out for the mare instead. She sniffed the hand thoroughly, before snorting and stepping towards her, pushing her head into Benna's chest. Obliging the mare with ear scratches, she looked over at Master Dennet. He shook his head ruefully.

"Should have known it would be her. She's an Antivan lady she is. She knows she's meant to roam free, not be kept in a pen. If she wants to take you, I'm not sure I can refuse."

"What's her name?" Varric asked.

"She doesn't have one yet. Nothing felt right."

But Benna knew. The mare was _Nunis O'dhea_. The Waters of the Morning Sun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Elven, I've been using FenxShiral's Project Elven here on AO3. Amazing resource, go check it out.
> 
> I'd also like to thank my BFF for checking through my horse knowledge. She loves horses. Seriously, LOVES them. I swear, we went on holiday together and the only photos she took were of horses. Or statues of horses. Or carvings of horses...


	6. In Which Cassandra Is Angry

In a surprisingly short time, they were ready to leave. Master Dennet had provided them with tack for each horse, and Benna was given an 'essentials pack' by Scout Harding, another dwarf with a sweet face and sharp arrows. She didn't have a chance to look through it before she found herself on the road with the Herald, Cassandra, Varric and Solas. They were to ride to The Crossroads first, to check in on the Inquisition's agents in the area, deliver some meat and blankets and collect Mother Giselle. She was some kind of holy woman who had agreed to join the Inquisition and needed an escort back to Haven.

Benna took her time saddling Nunis, getting to know the mare and crooning admiration. Nunis, for her part, was clearly eager to get going, snorting and shuffling her hooves with impatience, like a little girl waiting to go outside and play. Benna took the time to help Evelynne with double checking the tack and her horse's hooves, and they mounted up. They had the quiet gelding with them for the Revered Mother, as well as a pack horse to carry their tents and cooking equipment. Varric had been given a stocky brown pony named Steady who stood solidly, as if even an earthquake couldn't move him unless he allowed it. Solas mounted a long-legged grey who seemed as if he looked down his nose at everyone. When Benna asked, she was told his name was Fionn. Cassandra's horse was a piebald bruiser who snorted at Nunis in challenge; she just flicked her tail and ignored him. Cassandra called him Havard.

As they put their backs to the river and set out across the farmlands, Evelynne received a crash course in horse riding from the group as a whole. Varric chuckled to himself the entire time the Herald fought to keep her balance, use her stirrups and avoid getting tangled in the reigns. "This would be so much easier without a saddle!" She exclaimed in frustration.

"Yes. Right up until you turned a corner or moved faster than a walk. Then you would slide straight off and be left watching her go on without you." replied Cassandra dryly. Evelynne huffed, but finally got herself settled. Her poor mare looked confused as a horse could at all this wriggling going on behind her ears. Benna smothered a giggle and suggested trying out their horses' gaits. Evelynne agreed somewhat dubiously, and they started with a trot. They soon pulled ahead of the others, who were soon forgotten as they moved up into a canter. Evelynne was laughing, the sound high and free, and Benna soon joined in.

"Copy me! Watch how I sit for each one." They slowed to a walk, and Evelynne soon picked up the trick of moving with the horse. The same with a trot, canter and finally a gallop. Benna could almost feel Nunis' excitement, and she let the mare have her head as they took a wide curve around the side of the small valley where the farms lay. She could hear Evelynne's joyous whoops and peals of laughter as they circled the farms. When they were almost back to Master Dennet's, Benna pulled Nunis up, and they circled around to face back the way they came. Evelynne and Sal came up beside them.

"Race you back to the road?" Benna challenged with a grin.

"You're on!" Evelynne cried, as Sal leapt forward.

"Cheater!" laughed Benna as Nunis, affronted, snorted and raced to catch up. Neck-and-neck they flew across the ground, grinning at each other in exhilaration. It seemed the race was to be a draw, until a fallen tree forced Evelynne to take a small detour. Benna rose in her stirrups as Nunis left the ground... for a second, it felt like they were flying... and they reached the road seconds ahead of Evelynne.

"Not fair! You haven't shown me how to jump yet!" Evelynne was breathless from the ride and laughter. The wind and exercise had whipped some colour into her cheeks and her hair was windblown from the speed. Benna supposed she looked just as bad. She leaned forward to pat Nunis' neck, praising her for an excellent race.

Their laughter was cut short by the arrival of Cassandra. _I swear, every time I see her she looks more pissed off._ "Herald! What do you think you are doing?" The woman demanded. "You cannot go chasing off without one of us. The area is not safe. There are still rogue Templars and apostate mages everywhere, not to mention the unnatural wolves Master Dennet told us about. This reckless behaviour could cost us much." _Poor Evelynne._ Benna winced in sympathy for the young elf as she meekly received a dressing down, in public, from the formidable woman.

Benna was about to turn her horse to join the others and give them a bit of privacy when Cassandra suddenly rounded on her. "And you! You encouraged her! How could you consider this a good idea?" At this, Benna's spine straightened and her lip curled. Chastising Evelynne was one thing; they had a relationship, strained as it was, and the elf had shown Cassandra respect. Chastising _Benna_ for Cassandra's inability to keep up was another thing entirely. "If you aren't able to keep your prisoner safe, what use are you? Just another thug on a horse? Fighting with your companions if you can't find one on the road? _Pala adahl’en._ " She smirked, aware that her inability to understand was making Cassandra even angrier. Turning, she rose back to where Varric and Solas were hanging back, _almost_ out of earshot.

"Well said," nodded Solas, before turning back to watch the drama. Varric immediately began pestering Solas to translate, and then almost fell off his pony laughing when the elf grudgingly complied.

"Oh, that's definitely going in a book!" When he'd recovered himself he leaned over and patted Benna's hand. "Nice to know you do have some fire in you. I was worried you'd used it all up on those demons." Benna rolled her eyes at him and nudged Nunis into a walk, following the stiff backs of the two women ahead. "But, seriously, the Herald isn't a prisoner. Exactly. She needs to stay with us just as much as we need her." When Benna raised her eyebrows in question, Varric tapped his left palm. "The mark. It was killing her. It still might. I can see that it causes her pain to close the rifts. Ask Chuckles, he knows." Chuckles? Varric grinned. "Everyone gets a nickname. Well, except Cassandra, she's already a Seeker. We have Chuckles here," He gestured towards Solas, who looked entirely unimpressed. The similarity between him and his horse in that moment was almost too much for Benna. Swallowing a giggle, she turned back to Varric. "We have Nightingale, Ruffles and Curly back in Haven; they're the Spymaster, Diplomat and Commander of the Inquisition, you'll meet them later. Don't have one for the Herald yet, she's a hard one to get to know. I'm thinking for you... Embrium maybe? 'Cause you're so pretty and sweet, like the flower." Benna frowned and shook her head. That just made her sound like an object. "No, huh? I'll think of something."

Varric continued to chatter as they skirted around an area covered in smoke and bodies. Apparently the Templars - _what are templars?_ \- and mages had been fighting a lot in this area. Benna had to swallow repeatedly to keep from losing her breakfast. She had to keep her eyes on her mare's mane to avoid seeing anything else, or she definitely would have shown everyone the contents of her stomach. He was still talking when they finally arrived at The Crossroads. It was exactly that. One road running out past the farms, another to Redcliff and a third wound up into the mountains. A scattering of houses and a well and that was it as regards architecture. A man was selling a few weapons and trinkets off a badly-repaired table, and there were refugees everywhere.

Benna's heart broke when she saw a pair of children, no more than 7 or 8, sitting huddled together in a forgotten corner. They obviously had nothing and no one; they stared hopefully into the face of everyone who came past, searching for their family. From what little she had seen, Benna didn't have much hope for their parents. The others were waiting patiently for the Herald and Mother Giselle to join them, so Benna quietly took her pack from where it rested behind her and slipped off Nunis. She rummaged through her pack as she walked towards the children, finding a water bottle made of animal hide, some dried meat and more of that tough bread. Not much, but more than they had, and nothing she couldn't do without.

She sat down a few feet from the children, a girl and a boy, and placed the food on a convenient rock between them. She met their eyes, smiled and nudged it towards them gently, before closing her eyes and enjoying the sun on her face. She felt rather than heard the silent discussion between the two, and then one of them snatched the food and they scrambled back to eat.

Eventually, she heard a small voice say quietly "Uh, Miss?" When she looked over, the boy blushed fiercely and dropped his eyes to his dirty feet. "We uh, well..."

"We wanted to say thank you." His sister interrupted. She fixed Benna with an assessing look. "Dunno why you'd want to feed the likes of us, but... thanks. We hadn't et since yesterday an' that was just some potatoes we found." Benna smiled and offered the waterskin. They took it from her this time, promising to refill it at the well. "Benna," she said, gesturing to herself.

"'m Mal an' she's Shae. Say," the boy suddenly looked Benna in the eye, forgetting his shyness. "are you with the 'quisition? 'Cause I wanna join! They got so-jers and they look after people."

"Mal! The 'quisition got better things to do than take care o'us! Anyway, Mother's coming soon you know she said to wait for her here." Benna's heart gave a little whimper as she wondered how long they'd been waiting. Days from the look of them. She caught Solas' eye and beckoned him over with a nod of her head. As he ambled over, she dug around in her pack and found a folded blanket buried in the bottom. She dug it out and edged over to the bickering pair, managing to wrap it around Shae's shoulders while she argued with her brother. The gentle touch apparently broke something in the little girl, because she stuttered, blinked twice, took one look at Benna's face and threw her arms around her, breaking into great, heart-wrenching sobs.

As Mal knelt down to hug his sister, Benna looked up at Solas. "Can we take them to Haven? They've been here days waiting for their family. I'm sure they'd be able to earn their keep." The mage looked them over, his face that frustrating smooth mask.

"I'm certain Haven will have space for these two scraps of humanity."

"Hey!" Mal interrupted. "What's that you're sayin'?"

"The Lady Benna would like you to join the Inquisition with us and Mother Giselle. Do you think you'll be able to help us?" Mal lept to his feet, enthusiasm on his lips once again. He led Solas away to find them some supplies for the journey, chattering all the while about 'so-jers'. Shae had stopped sobbing, but tears still trickled down her dirty face and she clung tightly to Benna, who pulled her up into her lap and hugged her tight.

"Can we... leave a note... for Mama? She'll be happy we got somewhere but she'll be awful worried if she can't find us." Of course, of course. Benna and the little girl clung to one another in their forgotten corner of the place where the roads met and tried to soothe their hurts. It didn't help much, but what mattered was that at least they tried.

\--------------------------------------

The addition of two children and a priestess to the party slowed them considerably and necessitated some adjusting of plans. While Mother Giselle rode the calm gelding, the pack horse's bundles were rearranged to make a seat for one of the children, and the other rode with Benna. She was kept entertained with their chatter, and with watching the others' reactions to them. Solas maintained his distance, observing them like specimens in a lab; Varric seemed to immediately adopt them as partners in crime, and Evelynne became a mother hen. They even managed to soften Cassandra - Benna swore she spotted her smiling at Mal when she thought no one was looking.

They were also fascinated by the Inquisition, magic, swordplay and Benna herself. Evelynne had told them that she understood, but couldn't speak, Common, and suggested that the children teach her. They took the responsibility seriously. She tried hard to repeat the phrases back to them, but it only came out right about forty percent of the time, no matter how much they practised. It didn't matter to them; any success was something to celebrate in their eyes.

Mother Giselle was someone they were familiar with, and she treated them with a sort of calm, kind distance. As if her 'calling' prevented her from having human relationships. She struck Benna as someone with good intentions, but an eye for her own fortunes as well. Take this joining the Inquisition. From what Benna could tell from the talk on the road, there was no clear leader within the church, and the Inquisition was the only organisation stepping forward to stop the chaos. If it was successful, Giselle would be in a powerful position as the highest-ranking cleric there. It also became apparent that Giselle had only agreed to travel to Haven, not join the Inquisition as Benna had. That felt like a weasel's agreement to Benna.

Finally, as the sun was setting, they stopped to set up camp. Cassandra and Evelynne set up the three tents, Solas wandered off to do... something, and Benna showed Shae how to check the horses' feet for stones, remove bridals and begin brushing them down, while Mal was grabbed by Varric and learned how to start a fire. "I'm too little to reach up there!" Shae complained, looking up at Fionn's back high above her head.

"You'll grow soon enough," smiled Benna. For now, Shae did the parts she could reach, while Benna curried the horses' backs. Evelynne came over to ask Shae where she wanted to sleep.

"Would you like to sleep with Mother Giselle in her tent, or share with Benna and me?" Benna was a little surprised; she hadn't realised they'd be sharing.

"Oh, you! Please, Herald, I want to share with you and Benna."

"Well it might be a tight squeeze; Mal wants to share with us as well. But we'll have dinner first - come on, let's go see what they're making." Benna finished up with the horses before ambling over to their fire. Solas sat with his eyes closed in a meditative pose, while Varric and Evelynne chattered with the children. Benna sat down next to Mal and turned to stare into the fire. She tucked a wisp of a curl behind her ear and sighed; her body ached from all the unfamiliar riding and her heart hurt for these poor children. Who knew how many others were out there, waiting for parents who would never come.

Benna startled and came back to herself when Cassandra sat down beside her in a rattle of plates and jingle of mail. She eyed her uncertainly, edged away a bit and was about to return to the fire and ignore her, when Cassandra spoke.

"I wished to apologise. The Herald told me what you said to me earlier, and you were right. I was acting like a thug. I should not have spoken to either of you in that way, and I will endeavour not to do so again. It's just... the Inquisition may be the last hope for peace between the Templars and mages, and the Herald is the only one who might be able to close the Breach. That could swallow the world. This is an enemy I cannot fight merely with sword and shield, but I can try to keep the Herald safe. I overreacted. And the children... they showed me that you're like us; trying to help everyone you see. I hope that we can get along better from now on."

Benna could only blink at her in surprise. Giving up her scramble for words that would have been useless anyway, she gave Cassandra a small nod and a smile. Amazingly, Cassandra smiled back, and they sat side-by-side in comfortable silence for the rest of the evening.

After eating what Varric called 'King's Mercy', a stew he had made from trail rations and herbs picked from the roadside, the entire party retired to sleep, even though it could only be about 8 pm. Without a source of artificial light, there wasn't much else to do, and they were all tired from the rigours of the day. Evelynne and Benna settled the children first, and Benna rummaged through her pack again to find a comb she had seen earlier. She had just started unravelling the braid, when Evelynne again volunteered to comb it for her. She readily agreed, and the children watched sleepily as her hair was restored to order. Evelynne hummed a soft lullaby as she worked, and it made Benna sleepy too. She crawled over to Shae and curled herself around the little girl to keep her warm. She felt Evelynne settle beside her, and the last thing she remembered was Evelynne's soft voice. "I'm glad you're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, these kids came out of nowhere. But Benna wouldn't let them go once she'd seen them.
> 
> Elven
> 
> Pala adahl’en. - Go fuck a forest.


	7. In Which All Is Forgiven, If Not Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER WARNING ***
> 
> This chapter contains a scene that had consent issues, as well as possible physical abuse (interpretation is tricky, even for me!) It is also NSFW. Please read with caution.
> 
> If you see yourself in Benna, or your SO or family member in Hunter's behaviour, please get help. 
> 
> Much love,  
> The Lady S

Benna was confused yet again when she woke. No Evelynne or Shae. No tent fabric. Instead, the dusty beams of the garden shed met her eyes. She shook off the confusion and stretched, reaching out to grab her phone and check the time. Her body ached all over, especially her legs. Benna winced as her neck cracked. _I guess a sun lounger isn't really the best place to sleep. Better get a pillow or something out here for next time._

 

She got up and stretched some more, gathered up her bag and walked up the garden in the dim light to try the handle to the back door. To her pleased surprise, it opened and as she walked in she spotted a note on the kitchen table. Ignoring it for the moment, she prepared herself breakfast, even though she didn't really feel hungry. _Must be Varric's stew. Even in dreams, it fills you up._ She smiled in amusement and settled at the table with a bowl of cereal. As she crunched her way through it, she read the note that Hunter had left her:

  
_Sorry for yelling; you just made me so angry that I couldn't control it. Let me make it up to you. We'll go out for dinner tonight. How about bowling?_

  
_See you tonight._

  
Benna was delighted; he'd remembered how much she loved bowling. Still, she put some steak in the fridge to defrost, just in case. Rinsing her bowl, she rushed off to jump in the shower and get ready for work. She'd woken up early enough that she had enough time to dry her hair properly, and even put on some light makeup.

  
On the bus ride, her thoughts turned to her little refugees. She was pleased that the group had accepted them without a murmur; even Cassandra hadn't objected despite the potential dangers of the road. It made her feel more friendly towards them all, and she hoped that when she stopped dreaming of them the children would be taken care of. _Benna-girl, it's not real. They're only dreams not real people._ It didn't make a difference, she still wanted to take care of them as much as she possibly could.

  
She tried to shake off her thoughts as she started work, but they kept popping back into her mind even as she tried to focus on Mark's training for her new position. As he showed her how to monitor and order stock, file complaints, comments and requests and gave advice on how to deal with Head Office, the children's dirty faces stayed in the back of her mind. Shae was clearly the more sensitive of the two; she had obviously understood more of the situation than Mal and saw that it was unlikely that their parents had survived. She seemed like someone who could see the long-term implications of things, which was probably why she'd agreed to go to Haven with Benna. Mal seemed to focus more on the immediate problems; he'd been asking about their food and horses. but he didn't dwell on things. She would have to keep an eye on both of them; Shae seemed like a brooder; someone who couldn't let things go, whereas Mal was the kind of boy to get into things without thinking it through first; he'd already asked Cassandra to teach him how to fight with a sword. Opposites, yet the same; both of them had managed to escape the chaos of the Hinterlands with their spirits unbroken, which was almost a miracle in and of itself.

  
After work, she rushed home to change into something pretty for her date with Hunter. She looked through her tops carefully, looking for something nice that wasn't too low cut or clingy, especially since they were going bowling. She decided on a red blouse over black jeans and spent a bit of extra time on her hair while Hunter took a shower. She smiled and twirled for him when he stopped to look at her. "You look very pretty," he smiled and she flushed at the compliment. "Isn't that shirt a little bit loose on you though?"

 

"Oh! Well, yes, but I wanted something that was easy to bowl in. I'll tuck it in when we go for dinner. Or maybe I could take a different top..."

  
"Leave it, it's fine. You look pretty anyway." She smiled at him and went downstairs for her shoes. As she waited for him to finish getting ready, she whiled away the time scrolling through her phone; she wanted to be the kind of person who keeps up with politics, but somehow cat videos were much more compelling. What was a shadow secretary anyway? Somehow, she ended up looking back at the Dragon Age pages, looking for background on Templars and mages. She hadn't understood why they were fighting or why no one had stopped them if they were causing so much heartache in the Hinterlands. She was left with more questions than answers, but at least she understood some of the reasons why the conflict was happening.

 

As they got in the car, she asked Hunter, "Didn't you play an Inquisition game? Someone at work was talking about it and..."

  
"Oh don't waste your time!" he interjected contemptuously. "It's terrible. I tried it and, honestly, it was so bad that I barely finished the first mission!"

  
"Well, Karen at work said she loved it..."

  
"Oh, well, maybe for a _casual_ player it's ok, but I was turned off by the crappy gameplay; you get a LOT of bad dialogue options and the fight mechanics are clunky...." He continued to list his grievances with the game. Benna listened for a while, and daringly put in,

  
"What about the story though? Isn't that the point of a game like that?"

  
Hunter snorted. "I didn't really get far enough into it to tell you about the story. The sappy Herald and the stupid accents made me turn it off immediately. _You_ might like it though."

  
Benna privately resolved to dig the game out of the piles Hunter kept by the TV and try the game herself. The conversation turned to his favourite games; Call of Duty and GTA, and he waxed lyrical about their graphics, gameplay options and 'epic' videos he'd seen online for the rest of the journey. During their bowling match, they chatted about work and books. Benna was on top of the world; it was just like when they'd first met and Hunter had been so charming and funny. They celebrated their strikes with a kiss and commiserated with a hug when they missed. Still, she was careful to lose. Just in case.

  
Hunter held her hand as they walked through the park to a cute Italian they both liked. It was charming and cosy and, since it was mid-week, almost empty. Benna had known the owner for years; long before she'd met Hunter her friend Charity had had a huge crush on him and their group had been forced to come almost every week, just so she could see him. Greg was not, in fact, Italian - he was Irish, with the stereotypical dark hair and blue eyes, but he certainly knew his way around a lasagne. He greeted Benna with a kiss blown across the room, and sent a waitress over with their menus immediately.

  
The waitress was in her early twenties, pretty, with 'assets' that strained the buttons on her white shirt. She was perfectly polite and friendly, but Benna's heart sank. She hid behind her menu as Hunter began to flirt lightly with the woman, asking her about her job and what she did for fun. He always did it, no matter how many times she asked him to stop. He claimed it was because a friendly server could sometimes get you a good deal, but she'd noticed that a man was often ignored to the point of rudeness. To her credit, the waitress didn't respond to Hunter's flirting, remaining polite and professional while maintaining her smile.

  
When she was finally gone with their drinks order, Benna said brightly, "I love it here! The food is amazing, isn't it? What are you going to have? I'm not sure..." Hunter mumbled something distractedly in return, still absorbed in watching the waitress walking back to the kitchen. "Well, I think I might have the carbonara; it's delicious and we don't often have it at home." At this, Hunter turned back to Benna, running his gaze down her figure. Immediately feeling insecure, she faltered for a second and continued, "Or maybe the Ceasar salad... or the seafood linguine. Everything's so delicious, it's hard to decide."

  
He raised an eyebrow. "If I were you, I'd pick the salad. Didn't you say you'd had a big lunch?" She hadn't, but agreed with him anyway. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she wasn't taking care of herself and getting fat. She knew she wasn't as pretty as the waitress, but she could take care of the rest of herself. So she ordered the salad and watched as he demolished a massive steak and American-style fries. They talked about favourite restaurants and memories of places they'd been together. She even told him about her soon-to-come promotion. He was pleased for her, remarking that they were putting a lot of trust in her. He ordered a bottle of wine, after agreeing that she would drive them home, and she watched as he polished it off and gestured for a whiskey. She sipped her (diet) cola and hoped that he wouldn't get too drunk; he was far too big for her to carry home alone.

  
Still, the meal passed pleasantly. She'd had a good time this evening, all was forgiven and he'd made sure to choose the things that she liked. It was still early, but Hunter had work in the morning, so they made their way slowly back to the car. He didn't hold her hand this time, tucking his hands into his pockets instead. As she drove, Hunter was mostly silent and distant; staring out of the window watching the lights flash past. She tried a few times to recapture the easy, genial conversation in the restaurant, but he didn't respond except with a few grunts, so she drove in silence.

  
As they stepped into the house, Hunter suddenly turned and fixed her with a look she knew very well. Tired as she was, the idea of ending their lovely evening with an orgasm suddenly sounded wonderful. She looked at him from under her eyelashes, and without a word being spoken, began to unbutton her shirt. He watched her avidly with a smirk on his handsome face. She shrugged her blouse off, slid past him, making sure to brush the length of her body against his, and started up the stairs. She heard him chuckle deep in his throat before following her up.

  
In their bedroom, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, bending his head to kiss her hard. Their hands roamed, stripping away the layers of clothing until they were skin to skin. Her hands went to his hair as she rose on tiptoe to deepen the kiss as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other began pinching and rubbing her nipples. Her moans filled the air; he had always known exactly how to make her body sing. Just as she turned to jelly in his arms, melting against him, his fingers turned harsh, twisting out a yelp of pain. At that, she could feel his erection get even harder as it was pressed against her belly. She tried to pull away, to look at his face, but his arm was like a steel band around her waist, keeping her nose pressed to his collarbone as his fingers continued to play with her breasts. He was back to being gentle, perhaps it had been a mistake, and she relaxed again, one hand starting to slide down his chest towards his hip...

  
Before she could touch him, he turned her around and bent her forwards so both hands rested on the bed. The sudden cold where his fingers weren't made her shiver, and she bit back a moan as he slid inside her in one stroke. Her fingers clenched in the duvet as he gripped her hips and began to move, pulling almost all the way back before slamming forward again in a relentless rhythm. She arched her back and allowed her voice to tell him how much she was enjoying this, her moans and whimpers echoing around the room.

  
She was reaching for her orgasm, driven by that hard, fast rhythm, when he suddenly let go of her hip with one hand and smacked it down hard on her ass. She yelped in pain and waited for an apology, but instead, there was only that driving rhythm, and another slap, hard enough to leave a red mark. She whipped her head around to look at him, whimpering in pain, but couldn't see his face properly in the darkness. His teeth were bared, but he never stopped moving inside her. As more slaps rained down on her lower back, she tried to move away from him, trying to object and ask him to stop, but he growled and shoved her back down, her face into the mattress. Caught between pleasure and fear, she could only lie there, whimpering and yelping with each new slap and each movement of his pulsing-hot-hard erection inside her.

  
Her body betrayed her, and she suddenly came with a yelp, freezing and shivering under one final slap as her orgasm triggered his. He came, growling something like ' _Mine_!', and crashed down on top of her. She was panting and gasping, her mind completely confused by what had just happened. After a moment to catch his breath, he chuckled darkly in her ear. "You enjoyed that, didn't you? Who knew? We'll have to try it again some time..." She shuddered, in fear this time, but he only chuckled again and got up to fall onto the bed.

  
Benna stood up on shaky legs to go to the bathroom. Everything from her waist to the backs of her knees was bright red and stinging, with one handprint painting red stripes around the curve of her hip. She cleaned herself up and walked carefully back to the bedroom, still feeling as if she was a little boat on a stormy sea. Hunter was already almost asleep, the wine apparently kicking in at last. Unsure whether she wanted to be any closer to him, she paused at her side of the bed and looked down at him. He snorted with impatience and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into bed and wrapping her in his arms.

  
She tried to relax. Probably he hadn't meant to hurt her. It was just an experiment. And she'd come hadn't she? She must have enjoyed it. She could feel Hunter's breathing getting slower and slower, and she tried to match her breathing to his so she would fall asleep. She knew she'd still be awake for hours though, when she heard him mutter "Don't flirt with Greg anymore. You're mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did NOT want to be written; I've been fighting with it all week. But we need this to get to where we're going. Cullen will show her how things could be.
> 
> Back to Thedas next chapter.


	8. In Which Sparks Fly

For the rest of the week, Benna's life was somewhat peaceful. She and Hunter settled into an uneasy peace; there was no more shouting or assaults. In fact, he didn't touch her once, not even a brush of hands. But there was no laughter, no conversation. He barely spoke to her, and she retreated into uncomfortable silence. She replayed the incident in their bedroom over and over, unclear in her own mind what had happened. Had she given him a signal that she might enjoy some pain during sex? Had he meant it playfully? Was it her fault? Maybe she even enjoyed it? She _had_ orgasmed after all. Maybe he was right? And she didn't actually ask him to stop. So was this her fault? Was it something she should feel bad about? Or good? 

Around and around. With no one to speak to about it, she tried to bury the memories and continue on. She dug out _Inquisition_ and started a new game. Of course, she made her character look as close to Evelynne as possible, only to watch in horror as she was put in danger, again and again, trying to close the Breach. Benna wondered what it would look like when she saw it in her dreams. Even on a screen, it was terrifying. She 'met' the advisors and a few other characters around Haven. She explored the village and the surrounding area, learning everything she could. Her heart broke for Cassandra and Leliana; they had lost their friend as well as a spiritual leader. No wonder Cassandra was aggressive when it came to protecting people; she had failed at what could be her most important test.

Soon, the game took her to the Hinterlands and the Crossroads. Benna was still amazed at how perfectly her dreams had mimicked the game. How was it possible? Was she just adding details where there hadn't been any? And yet the people... They were real. Exactly as the game showed them. But she had never played the game before, or even seen Hunter play it. She researched dreams and suggestion, but nothing seemed to match what was happening to her. It remained a mystery.

She was careful not to play any further than she had 'lived', however. She had an idea of how mages were treated in that world. And their prophet. She had no desire to be made Tranquil or burned at the stake for 'knowing the future'. The Chancellor, in particular, seemed the type to enjoy a bonfire. She also pondered their insistence that she was a mage. Perhaps there, she was. If so, she'd have to try and learn how to use it; the game had shown her only a small taste of the potential dangers, and if she was going to protect the children...

She was also realising that her 'lucid dreams' might be putting her in danger. Before she started dreaming of the Inquisition, she had been able to alter the dreamscape around her. If she had actually dreamed of the Fade - and the green sky in her nightmares made it seem likely - then she had actually been interacting with spirits, not merely dream-people. From what she could tell, that was incredibly dangerous. She was glad now that only Evelynne and Solas had heard her babbling about her dreams. Who knows what the Seeker would have made of it.

Her dreaming life was continuing too. Over the next four days, the party wound higher and higher into the mountains. The air got colder and colder, and they began to see snow. Evelynne told Benna and the children that the snows in Haven were up to six feet deep in the drifts. They encountered no trouble thanks to the efforts of Inquisition patrols and scouts, who made certain that the road was always clear. They passed people often; some were scouts or hunters, others were pilgrims coming to Haven or refugees who wanted to join the Inquisition. Once, they passed a brightly painted and gilded carriage which had been abandoned on the side of the road. They searched the area, but it seemed that the occupants hadn't been attacked. The road had simply got too rugged for a coach. Cassandra snorted with disdain. "They would have been told to leave this gaudy monstrosity at The Crossroads. Just like a noble to ignore good advice when they hear it."

"Aren't you a noble yourself, Seeker?" Varric asked, "Seems like you'd have some sympathy for the poor rich fledgelings." She gave him a look of disgust and remounted Havard.

"Just because my family is noble does not mean that I should accept their ways as my own. Let us continue, and hope that we do not meet them on the road." Mal climbed up the horse's side like he was climbing a mountain. He had abandoned the pack horse that morning in favour of peppering Cassandra with questions about swords, made worse after he had watched her train at dawn. Shae seemed perfectly content riding with Benna, both of them huddled in her cloak and talking of small things to while away the hours.

The country they rode through was magnificent. It reminded Benna of trips she had taken with her mother as a child; huge, sky-scraping mountains of grey and brown stone, with sweeping skirts of evergreens and snowy shoulders. They were teeming with life too; Benna spotted lots of wild sheep ranging over the foothills, as well as rabbits, fox-like creatures called fennecs, thousands of birds and even, once, the majestic flight of an eagle. They crossed and re-crossed a mighty river that wound its way down from the heights; Evelynne told Benna that it was the same river which was frozen up at Haven. Shae and Benna passed the time by trading the names of the animals back and forth, and trying to tell each other made up stories about them.

Shae's efforts to teach Benna Common were appreciated, but Benna was still frustrated by how slowly she was learning. She simply could not hear much of a difference between Elven and Common, so trying to speak it was an exercise in futility. If she concentrated hard, she could sometimes mimic their words, but repeating the feat was a matter of luck rather than skill. What she had noticed was that the children seemed to be picking up Elven rather better than she was learning Common. They had started using the Elven words for 'please' and 'thank you', and even 'good night'. Solas noticed too.

Shae was riding the pack horse one afternoon when Benna heard his voice in her ear. "You three might end up the only humans fluent in Elven in all of Thedas." Benna looked up, startled. They had been riding in silence, lost in their own thoughts or watching the mountains scroll by, and she hadn't noticed him draw up beside her. "Are you sure there aren't any others? It seems silly to assume that no human speaks Elven."

He inclined his head. "You are quite right; some humans do learn Elven as part of their diplomatic skills, especially those in the Free Marches. But they learn the modern Elven a clan might use to outsiders. That dialect is full of words borrowed from Common, and the language structure is often fragmented at best. So much was lost during the fall of Arlathan. But your speech holds almost none of that. It is quite fascinating." Benna wasn't quite sure what to make of this lecture. Was this a good thing? 

"Will other elves object to me speaking Elven? It just seems like they are quite protective, if they have an 'outsider' language."

Solas looked at her oddly, as if he was surprised by her question. Or perhaps her ignorance. "They may. The elves have become almost fanatical about protecting the last shreds of their culture. The limp rags of superstition and vague memories, made valuable only by their hope."

Benna frowned, puzzled by his tone. "You speak as if you weren't one."

He visibly retreated from her, his expression closing off. Now more than ever he seemed like a scientist, poking at the corpse to gain as much information as possible. Benna felt herself responding to that look, shrinking away and hunching her shoulders. Finally, he shook his head slightly. "I do not identify with today's elves. The Dalish hide from the knowledge of what the world truly is. And the city elves... they may as well be humans. I have seen the memories of the Elven empire in the Fade. There were halls of song, echoing endlessly in complex harmonies that never repeated. The very trees joined the chorus, and at dawn, the light of the sun shimmered in endless rainbows of colours that we cannot even imagine. Clinging to their children's tales does the Dalish no good."

Benna was in awe at the idea. But something in Solas' face told her that any comment right now would be unwelcome. So she simply nodded, and they continued riding in silence.

Eventually, Evelynne pulled up between them. Without any kind of preamble, she started to chatter. "So Benna, I was thinking about your training. I know you said you don't have any but you definitely have magic, so I think we need to try and get you to try while we're on the road. Haven is full of rather inflammatory objects, including people, and I think you have an affinity for fire. So it would probably be best if we didn't practice much in Haven itself until you have some control." Benna felt breathless herself. No matter how long she listened to Evelynne chatter, she couldn't get used to the way she didn't seem to breathe. Eventually, she managed to stutter out "T-training? But I don't know the first thing!"

"That is the point of training, is it not? Learning the first thing?" This from Solas, who was turned to face them but avoided eye contact.

"Yes! Solas can teach you after we finish dinner, and then you'll be able to show people at Haven that you _can_ do magic and that you have control. Then we'll be able to get you a staff to use in a fight... though I do think you should do some steel weapons training as well. What do you think of using daggers like mine?" Blinking, Benna noticed that Solas was rather unhappy with the idea of training her. But her mind had snagged on Evelynne's question.

"Daggers? I don't know about that. It seems very... personal." 

"Oh it is! Or it can be. It's why I generally stick with a bow. But I like to have a backup just in case something gets too close. I know you'll have a massive wooden stick to hit things with, but damaging a staff like that can cause a few problems. That's why I thought the daggers might be a good addition for you; you'll have something that can do damage without needing mana or lyrium. In fact, I think I'm going to suggest that for all our mage recruits. Solas, can you use a weapon other than your staff?"

As the conversation drifted away from Benna, she was left wondering what had happened. She certainly hadn't agreed to any of it. Not lessons from Solas or dagger fighting. So why did it feel like it was decided? Still, she had known that she needed training. Perhaps it was for the best. And the daggers... she'd deal with that later. 

\--------------

Happily, her first magic lesson with Solas wasn't as frustrating as learning to speak Common. After their nightly dose of King's Mercy, they sat side by side in front of the fire. Shae demanded to be included, so they shuffled a bit to allow her to sit between them, and she frowned fiercely as she took part - something that amused Varric to no end. First, they concentrated on simply finding their magic within them. 

"Magic runs in a mage's very blood. It is found in every inch of their body, but it is easiest to find in the heart. Every mage is different, but I feel my magic like a shimmer through my blood and bone. You two will need to search within yourselves to find that which is you, yet not you." Shae nodded seriously and scrunched up her face. Benna smiled before closing her own eyes and started searching. She began at the heart, since Solas had said it was easier to find there, but she felt only her heartbeat. 

Frowning, she began to look elsewhere, starting at the top of her head. Nothing...nothing...nothing... Benna was beginning to get frustrated, when she suddenly felt... something. It wasn't where Solas had said it would be, but lower down, in her core. Just under her diaphragm, she felt a sparking, crackling flame that was somehow both part of her and separate. Opening her eyes, she smiled at Solas.

"Good you found it. Now we..."

"Wait! Solas I haven't found mine yet!" Shae complained.

"It might be that yours is sleeping until you get a bit older," he told her kindly. "But you should still listen so that when you do find it you'll know what to do." She nodded and shuffled sideways to lean against Benna, tangling her fingers in her hair. Step by step, Solas coached Benna on directing that crackling flame from where it hid. He kept his voice soothing and patient and she relaxed as she followed his instructions. Slowly, she coaxed a piece of it through her skin to her fingertips. "Open your eyes," he said quietly. Her hand was glowing a soft gold. She gasped in surprise and looked around the fire at the others. Varric was watching carefully, a bit of a smirk on his face. Evelynne looked delighted. Cassandra was wary. The children, however, were both staring wide-eyed as the glow in her fingers died away. 

After that, they practised every evening. At his recommendation, Benna practised drawing light into her hands during the day, until she could do it almost instantly. He taught her how to snap the magic up and into the world, leaving her holding a ball of cold fire. She couldn't throw it any distance at all though. Perhaps a staff would help with that. Varric added to her lessons, writing words out for her in the dirt. She found that being able to see the words helped her hear the differences between the two languages, and she was able to read an entire sentence in Common with almost no mistakes the night before they got to Haven. They celebrated by going to bed early, so they could start at dawn and get hot baths all the sooner. 

Finally, on the morning of their fifth day of travel, they were climbing the final ridge. The village lay in a small valley between the mountains, at the foot of the path up to the destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes. As they reached the top, Benna drew Nunis sharply to a halt. There, high above the mountains, lay the Breach. There were no words; she could only gape. The swirling green-lit clouds should have obscured it, but instead they only revealed the place where the sky... wasn't. Her mind struggled with it, but there was no other way of putting it. It didn't seem like a hole from _here_ to _there_. It looked like a piece of the sky was simply... absent. Benna felt chills running down her spine as she contemplated the awesome power that must have been unleashed only a few miles away. It was a miracle that anyone had survived at all. She began to understand why people put their faith in the Herald.

After a few minutes, Varric clapped her on the knee. "Come on Firestarter. Another few minutes and we can have a hot bath and a drink. Not necessarily in that order." He chuckled and urged Steady onwards down the path. Finally able to take in her surroundings, Benna spotted a few wooden houses and a whole lot of people in the valley below. She grinned and clucked to Nunis to follow. Haven at last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OH said this chapter feels 'montage-y'. Yep, that's exactly what it is. I did it on purpose...
> 
> Now we're in Haven. Cullen! In the next chapter! Being all... Cullen-y.


	9. In Which Benna Is Surprised

As they rode through Haven's gates, Benna felt a tension she hadn't been aware of lift from her shoulders. Nunis felt it too, snorting happily and prancing down the path towards the stables. These turned out to be larger than in the game, with a block of stalls and even a carriage house. Varric explained that Haven was a place for pilgrimage, so the stables were much larger than you would expect for a tiny mountain hamlet. It wasn't so tiny anymore; Benna could see dozens of tents clustered around the walls in neat military rows, with a larger one placed to overlook the training grounds. 

They dismounted, eager to finally warm up; the last day or two had left them all chilled to the bone. There weren't any formal stablehands, since the Inquisition had few mounts, but a couple of soldiers tried to take Sal for Evelynne. Mother Giselle surrendered her mount willingly, but Evelynne politely refused, and Shae said importantly "I'm the one who helps with the horses, not you!" The soldiers smiled at the little girl and bowed to their Herald, stepping back out to give them some room to untack and groom their mounts. The children helped, scurrying back and forth to put pieces of tack away, and fetching hay and treats. Benna made a mental note to come back later and properly clean her tack - and Evelynne's if she was too busy.

"We'd better get you four up to Josephine." Evelynne remarked. She was almost hidden behind her horse's withers, but Benna spotted an arm gesturing to herself, Giselle and the children. "She'll want to register you with the Inquisition, and I'm sure she'll have rooms prepared for you, Revered Mother." Giselle, standing by while a soldier gave her gelding a brisk rub down, inclined her head, a small smile on her face.

"I gotta say," put in Varric, "I'm glad to be back. It's not home, but it's better than a fire on the road. There's ale here, for one; Flissa does a good job of tavernkeep. It's watered down to almost nothing, but it helps. Firestarter, Herald, come join me for a drink later?" Benna smiled at him over Steady's back and nodded. She wasn't too happy with her new nickname, but she could hardly object. Not least because she didn't have the language skills. They were just finishing up and grabbing saddlebags and packs, when a clank of plate announced the arrival of Commander Cullen. 

He stopped in the doorway blinking in the semi-darkness. It gave Benna a moment to size him up. He'd been a bit intimidating in the game; a tall soldier with a proud bearing. The sword at his side likely weighed more than Mal, and his plate armour certainly did, yet he wore it as if he didn't even feel the weight. Benna did notice that he was more handsome than the game had managed to convey, but his bearing intimidated her enough that it was a secondary concern. Here was a man who could kill her in one second, and likely not think about it much after. 

She gathered the children to her, holding their hands in each of her own, mostly to prevent Mal immediately attaching himself to this paragon of little boy's dreams. "Herald, I'm glad to see you returned safely," Cullen said, his rich voice catching Evelynne's attention. "And Revered Mother, I'm pleased that you chose to join the Inquisition." He inclined his head to Mother Giselle. Benna was interested to note that he gave her a very shallow nod; to convey his respect, nothing more. How strange. She would have expected a Templar to treat a Chantry Mother with more reverence. 

Evelynne jumped in to make the introductions as Cassandra and Varric quietly left. Varric caught Benna's eye and made a 'drinky-drinky' motion and she nodded. Solas had vanished at some point, but Fionn was buried up to his ears in a trough of hay. Mother Giselle left with a soldier as an escort, and Benna supposed that she had gone to meet the Ambassador. Cullen caught her attention by gesturing towards her and the children "And I see you picked up some baggage on the way...?" He asked Evelynne, raising an eyebrow. Mal opened his mouth to answer, but despite bristling inwardly, Benna gently shook his wrist and murmured _"Ma atish."_

"Oh, yes! This is Benna; she's a mage. She was being attacked by demons near Dennet's farm, and she's agreed to join the Inquisition. The children are Mal and Shae; Mal is going to be a soldier one day and Shae is going to do everything. Benna, this is Commander Cullen Rutherford." Evelynne's bright smile reassured Benna a little, but Cullen was looking at her with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Mal, apparently no longer able to keep quiet, burst into a shower of questions about Cullen, his job, sword, training, could he teach Mal, where do the soldiers live? that Cullen mostly ignored. He didn't take his eyes off Benna as he addressed the boy; "I'm sure you'll be able to find those answers without me. For now, let's get you to the Chantry so Josephine can register you." And with that, he about-faced and stomped off through the snow. Well then.

Evelynne gestured for them to follow her, with an admonishment for the children to stay close for now. Benna finally let go of the children and gathered up her pack. With one hand she carried the saddlebags and her free hand was quietly taken by Shae. She smiled down at the little girl, who was regarding everything around her seriously, as if she was taking notes. As they followed Cullen up through the enormous wooden gates, Evelynne was talking. "So over near the stables is the blacksmiths; they make everything from horseshoes to swords so we'll have to go and see them later. The soldiers are camped in those tents over there; we could never fit them all behind the walls anyway and it keeps them a bit separate from the villagers and pilgrims. Cullen and his officers drill them every day; you can go watch if you want. Just make sure you keep out of the way, Mal; there are lots of ways to get hurt. Over there is Segritt - he sells a little bit of everything but he does keep his prices a little high; there's been some grumbling about that. If you want to find Varric, this is his tent - I don't know why he hasn't been given a cottage but maybe he prefers it here? I'll have to ask him. Requisitions are here, Therrin is the quartermaster and that over there is the tavern. You can get ale or milk and whatever meal Flissa has cooked today for free; the Inquisition pays. Anything else, like wine or special food you'll need to pay for..."

She was still talking as they entered the Chantry, only falling silent as they approached the Lady Josephine. She was a smooth-skinned beauty, with dark hair and coffee-coloured skin. Her smile was pleasant but her eyes were guarded. Mother Giselle was nowhere to be seen; perhaps Josephine had already presented her with her rooms. Cullen barely paused to murmur something to Josephine, before disappearing through the door to the war room without looking back. The Herald mask slid over Evelynne's face again.

"Josephine, I have here three new members to be registered."

"Of course, Herald." The woman answered, "Shall we step into my office? It is much warmer in there." The five of them trooped in, and the children crammed onto the only spare chair. "Now," said Josephine composedly, "Who do we have here?" She took the children's full names, date and place of birth, as well as their story. When she proposed moving them in with the Chantry sisters however, they both objected. 

"No! We're stayin' with Benna." Mal said loudly. Quieter, but no less firmly, Shae added "She cares. The Chantry all run away when the fightin' came." Josephine looked a little surprised but nodded and made a note on her... clipboard? before she turned to Benna. 

"You, I suppose, are Benna, yes? What is your full name?" Benna opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a cough from Evelynne.

"Benna... only speaks Elven." 

This was the first time Josephine had betrayed a real depth of feeling. Her pleasant smile vanished and she gaped at Benna. "You only... but..,. how do you manage?" Benna sighed; she supposed that she would be getting a lot of this reaction. Again Evelynne interrupted gently.

"We find that we get along fine. She is starting to learn to speak Common, but she already understands everything she hears. She says that she cannot hear the difference between the languages. But for now, I will translate." Josephine visibly got herself under control and straightened her already straight posture. 

"Very well. So. Your full name, please?"

Benna had considered this question. Up until now, no one had really asked her about her background, partly due to the language barrier. She suddenly felt that she did not wish to give Josephine the name she had in the real world; it wasn't who she was. Instead, she gave the name her mother had used once, proudly. They had never used the name as a surname, but her mother had told her that it was theirs just the same, something to always remember but rarely use. "I'm Benna Par'an-Atama." She said, watching them for a reaction. Evelynne looked puzzled.

"That is a name I have never heard before. What does it mean?" She asked Benna in Elven. 

"It means 'Of the Sun-city'. It is the name my mother used." Josephine, missing this subtext, asked Benna to spell the name, followed by questions as to the date and place of her birth. Another difficult question. "I am not from anywhere in particular. My mother and I travelled a lot. But we are of the Sun-city. It is a thing of the blood, not the place you are born." Evelynne gave her a look that said they would speak of this more later. 

"And your rank?"

"Well, I have no formal title, but I do have some education." Josephine nodded, already scribbling, and asked a few more questions about Benna's skills and what role she could fill for the Inquisition. As they stood to leave, Evelynne turned back.

"One other thing, Josephine. I would like Benna and the children to share my house. We have so few places to put everyone, and we all shared a tent on the way here. Since it appears that I will have to be away often, it only makes sense to place them with me." This time, everyone stared at Evelynne. Josephine started to object, but Evelynne cut her off. "This is my personal wish, Josephine. I'm sure it makes things much easier on you. If you could arrange for baths and hopefully some clean clothes as soon as possible, I think we all would be extremely grateful." The Ambassador frowned, clearly still unhappy, but nodded. Evelynne nodded regally back, and ushered Benna and the children out of the office and towards the doors of the Chantry. 

Mindful of the way voices carried in the stone hall, Benna kept her tongue behind her teeth until they reached the open air. "Evelynne... Why? We'd have been fine on our own. Now everyone is going to think that we're lovers or something!"

Evelynne gave her an odd look. "And would that really be so bad?" She shook her head. "But the reason I wanted this is because... you call me Evelynne. No one else in this place sees me as a real person. To them, I'm just the Herald. I'm a creator-damned holy symbol of hope to these people. I'm supposed to speak for Andraste! I don't even believe in their Maker! But you... you don't see me with _reverence_ ," she almost spat the word into the snow. "You see me as just me, Evelynne. That's why I want to keep you around. Plus, you'll have some trouble living here without speaking Common, and this way I can help you until you get it."

Benna opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again to say; "Thank you _ma' falon_." Evelynne nodded briskly, looking like she regretted saying so much, and led them to a small wooden cottage set to the side of the gates. She opened the door and shooed them inside. Benna took a look around the place. It was cosy, with a massive stone fireplace immediately opposite the door. two bookshelves either side of the doorway, a small bed with a blue blanket in the far lefthand corner and a desk opposite on the right. A few rugs, chests and, oddly, a birdcage, complete with bird, and that was it. 

They paused in a sort of entryway to remove their boots, coats and cloaks. Evelynne also removed her weapons and hung them just beside the door, groaning with relief as she stretched her back. The children, having been somewhat overawed at the mountain village, started to regain their confidence, asking endless questions about the people, the house, the bird, the snow...

The knock at the door startled Benna out of the semi-doze she has been floating in. The warmth of the house and her feeling of safety had lulled her. When Evelynne called for the knocker to come in, a few women in simple woollen clothes and thick coats brought two tin baths, soap, hot water in buckets and fresh clothes for Benna and the children. With one accord, the two women almost threw the children into the baths, handing them soap and washcloths. Mal chattered happily, enjoying the novelty of hot water to bathe in. He would get so absorbed in whatever he was saying, he had to be reminded to use the soap in his hand. Evelynne volunteered to wash his hair for him, as well as check behind his ears. Mal blushed a fiery red, protested that that wouldn't be necessary, and dunked his head under the water.

Benna looked over at Shae, who was industriously scrubbing the bottom of one foot. "Would you like me to wash your hair for you?" Benna asked, gesturing to Shae's hair. The girl looked at her and nodded, her eyes suspiciously bright. She fetched a chair and sat down next to the bath, reaching to take a spare piece of soap from the pile left by the servants. She gently worked the soap through Shae's hair, untangling the strands and running a comb through it. It was soothing work, and she found herself humming a song she hadn't heard since her mother died. "Does that have words?" Shae asked quietly.

"Yes."

"What are they?" So Benna began to sing in a low voice;

  


_'Moi je m'en moque, J'envoie valser,_

__

_Les trucs en toc, Les cages dorées,_

__

__

__

_Toi quand tu me serres très fort_

____

__

____

_C'est comme un trésor_

_____ _

__

_____ _

_Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or.'_

_____ _

Mal stared at her in awe, soap once again forgotten in his hand. "What language is that? It's not Elven OR Common!"

_____ _

"Orlesian," Evelynne informed him. "Benna must have spent some time in Orlais when she was little. Now, come on and hop out. We still need a bath!" They wrapped the children in blankets to dry them, and put them into the single bed. They both looked much better after a bath and a few square meals; their green eyes less stark against their pale skin and mahogany brown hair shining. Benna dug the last of their road rations from her pack, and Evelynne, after rummaging around in a chest for a moment, triumphantly produced a large-ish wedge of cheese for them to share. Just as Benna was about to start undressing, another knock announced the return of the servants. Again, they bowed to their Herald, replaced the water in the baths and left, their eyes crinkling with hidden smiles to see Mal and Shae nibbling contentedly.

_____ _

Benna met Evelynne's eyes through the steam of the new baths, laughing when Evelynne exclaimed, "Last one in has to share a tent with Cassandra!" With little thought for modesty after almost a week without a proper bath, they flung their clothes off and sank into the hot water. As Benna unravelled her braid, Evelynne asked, "So, did you spend time in Orlais as a child?" Benna sighed, considered her options, and answered,

_____ _

"I don't really know. It was just my mother and me for as long as I can remember, and we never had a real home. We travelled all over. But not like the Dalish. They bring their homes with them when they move. She was my home."

_____ _

Evelynne nodded her understanding. "I travelled too, but always with my clan. We have our aravals. What have you done since you've been alone?"

_____ _

"...Drifted, I suppose. Sometimes I feel like a leaf in the wind."

_____ _

"You must miss her a lot." Benna nodded and dunked her head underwater. The bath could hide her tears easier than she could. When they were clean, they hurried to dress in fresh clothes before they got chilled. Benna had been given a green dress and stockings, both made of wool, with a wide leather belt and ankle-height boots. She looked askance at the dress; it looked as if it would be too long and too tight. Evelynne giggled. "They've given you a dress in my colours! And it looks like it might be cut for me too. As if I'd ever be caught wearing a dress!" Benna looked again and snorted out a laugh. The dress was the exact colour of Evelynne's eyes. She struggled into it anyway, for lack of anything better to wear. It was indeed a bit long, but no one would notice anyway; her chest was on display in a manner that was rather alarming. Hardly daring to breathe, she turned to Evelynne, who took one look and burst out laughing. The more Benna begged her to stop, the harder she laughed, until she was holding herself up against the desk, gasping for breath. "I'm so sorry! The look on your face!" Benna had been fighting the urge to laugh as it was, afraid of ripping a seam, but as Evelynne dissolved again, the giggles escaped her. 

_____ _

"Grown-ups are weird," Mal commented sleepily. Benna snorted again, then smiled over at the sleepy pair. 

_____ _

With Evelynne translating, she said quietly, "We're going to go out for a while. We need some food and to get a few things for all of us. You two stay here and sleep; no one will come to disturb you." On seeing their wide eyes, "We'll be back soon. I promise." Shae looked at them searchingly, then nodded and snuggled deeper into the bed. Mal looked like he might object, but in the end, simply threw his arms around Benna for a moment, and joined his sister. Benna filched a scarf of Evelynne's that was carelessly flung on top of the bookshelf. She needed it if she didn't want to be taken for something she wasn't. The two women swirled their cloaks on and left quietly, closing the door behind them.

_____ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know Cullen wasn't very welcoming. Next chapter might explain why...
> 
> The song Benna sings is called 'J'envoie Valser', and you can find it on youtube (with English translations)
> 
> Elven
> 
> Ma atish - be at peace. Essentially, 'shhh'  
> ma' falon - my friend


	10. In Which A Nightingale Listens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos! I love Benna too; she's so lost.

Varric sat close to the fireplace in The Singing Maiden, a roll of parchment surrounded by an inkwell, empty plate and full mug on the table in front of him. He absent-mindedly took a sip and made a face at the taste; this place truly had nothing on The Hanged Man, but it was more than he'd expected in the ass-end of Fereldan. And, of course, it was warm. Kirkwall might be a shithole, but at least it wasn't buried in snow eight months of the year. He reread through his notes so far, pleased with the small details. Those are what sell books. Everyone wants to know that the Lord-High-Whoever fell on his ass because he was too busy being important to look where he's going. 

He glanced up when the door opened to see the Herald and Benna hurry in. They stomped snow off their boots and looked around. He waved to them and they wove around the soldiers to reach him. He leaned back and shouted over several heads, "Hey, Flissa! Three ales, and none of that watered-down crap you give the soldiers!"

"You'll have to pay for it, Varric." Flissa yelled back without looking up from her stew.

"You know I'm good for it!" The Herald raised an eyebrow at him. "You'll thank me later. Her usual stuff is just snowmelt with only the flavour of ale. I think after that trip we deserve the good stuff." The two women laughed and drew up chairs to sit close to the fire. He'd been looking forward to this; he'd yet to unravel this pair of mysteries and in his experience, the best way to get someone talking was to get a few drinks in them. He gestured with his mug of 'ale'. "So what have you two been up to? Looks like you found a bath at least."

The Herald smiled at him. "Of course. We've been settling the children in their room and getting all of us finally clean and warm. I showed Benna around a bit but it's getting a bit cold to be wandering around in the snow." Benna was sitting as close to the fire as she could, and she had yet to remove her cloak.

"You don't like the cold, Firestarter?" When she looked at him quizzically he elaborated "You're almost in the fire there." She looked down at where the hem of her dress was actually in the ashes, smiled and shook her head. With a frown of concentration, she managed "Mother... love hot..." before dissolving into a flurry of Elven. The Herald translated.

"She said her mother loved warm places, so they almost never went anywhere cold. Maybe she didn't build up a tolerance." Hmm, another mystery.

"So I guess you spent a lot of time in Tevinter? How they manage to survive that climate is beyond me." She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. What was she hiding? His prodding was interrupted by the arrival of their ales, and the Herald asked Flissa for some of her 'famous' stew. "Wait, you didn't eat yet? But we got here hours ago!"

The Herald looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, we gave what was there to the children. Then I guess we got caught up in exploring." From the way Benna snorted, Varric guessed that it was the Herald who got caught up, not her. 

He took a sip of his ale. "Ahh, the good stuff. Flissa certainly can brew, whatever I think about this place." When Benna looked puzzled, he explained, "This isn't anything close to the tavern at home. The Hanged Man has everything; good food, good drinks, a good fight..."

"Good friend?" Benna managed. Varric sighed.

"Yeah, good friends. But they've all left now on new adventures. Guess that's why I'm here and not there drinking with them." 

She leaned forward and put a hand on his. "Varric... _m'aran_ i." The Herald nodded.

"We're your friends too, Varric. Who else will make us King's Mercy every night? Why do you call it that anyway?"

Shaken out of his brief melancholy, he grinned. "Well, the King's mercy is sometimes good, sometimes bad, right? And it's different every day. It's something you hope for, but might not like when you get it." Ah ha! He'd finally managed to get a real laugh out of the Herald. Benna was snickering too. "So, Firestarter..." he stopped at the frown that crossed her face. "What, you don't like it? I thought it was good." She shook her head and gestured around, the Herald again translating.

"She says she doesn't start fires, and her magic only makes cold flames so far. Plus, it might be a bad idea to call someone that in a village made entirely of wood." Point taken. He nodded and resigned himself to coming up with something better. "Another question for you, Varric." The Herald began. What? Who was interrogating who here? "Why are you still in a tent? I'm sure there's room for you in one of the shared houses, or even a cottage if that Orlesian noble has left."

"Yeah I'm sure there is, but I haven't asked Ruffles to find me somewhere." Both women looked at him. "Well, you know, I'd feel all kinds of bad if some poor pilgrim had to sleep in the snow because of me..." The Herald nodded, but Benna frowned at him. She was sharper than she seemed. He capitulated. "Alright, it might also be that no one remembers a tent doesn't block sound. You'd be amazed at the things you overhear." Benna laughed that Elven laugh, high and delighted. He found himself laughing with her. "For example, did you know that the Commander..."

He spun stories for them for the rest of the evening, trying hard to earn as many genuine laughs from the pair as he could. As they ate their stew and drank more than one ale, they both loosened up a bit. The Herald lounged back in her seat, relaxed in his presence for the first time that he could remember. Her lazy grin and slightly off-colour jokes had him chuckling all evening. Benna, by contrast, became more demanding. Still trying hard to speak Common, she called him out on exaggerated details and outright lies. She was still sat dangerously close to the fire and, when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she seemed to glow. He noticed several soldiers openly staring at her when she laughed.

The ladies left to return to the children before it got too late. Content with his forays and the information he had gleaned, he settled back with his drink, gazing into the fire. His musing was interrupted by an unfortunately familiar face. "Varric," she nodded as she sat in the chair the Herald had vacated.

"Leliana," he returned cautiously. The Nightingale was sharp as a knife. He didn't doubt she already knew almost everything about him, especially the parts he wanted to keep a secret. He was mostly just glad she was on their side. Probably. He scanned her serene face, wondering why she had sought him out. "What can I do for you, sister?" he tried. Her head tilted ever so slightly towards the empty chair by the fire. Ah. So this was about Benna, then.

"What can you tell me about her? My birdies have been searching since I received the raven from Redcliff Farms."

Varric considered. It was a bad idea to lie to the Nightingale, but he didn't want to hurt his new, self-declared friend. "Honestly, with the language barrier, it's hard to know much. She seems... cautiously friendly. Not too confident with people. She's been learning some magic from Solas; apparently, she never had any training so that fire spell we saw her cast was instinctual. The Herald likes her. And I get the feeling that she'd defend those children she collected to her last breath."

Leliana nodded. "I heard about the altercation with Cassandra." 

Varric did a double-take. How in the name of Andraste's charred chilblains had she even heard about that?

Leliana's lips tilted in a tiny smirk. "Come now, Varric. Do you honestly think that the Herald took a single step in the Hinterlands that wasn't seen by one of my people?"

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "That was one of the more interesting moments. If Solas is to believed, she asked Cassandra if she was a thug who just wanted to fight. And then told her to go fuck herself." He chuckled into his ale. "I'm not sure what brought it on; the haranguing or that it was aimed at her. She wasn't sorry though, even after."

She pursed her lips, thinking. When she looked up, she said quietly, "She and the children are sharing the Herald's cabin." 

Well, that was a surprise. "At whose request?"

"The Herald's, according to Josephine. She has me... concerned."

Varric felt somehow compelled to defend her. "Well, in all likelihood, that's the truth. The Herald does tend to roll right over her, not that she minds. I didn't get the impression that she was anything more than a lost soul, just like all of us here. And you have to admit, Benna is the first person who wasn't involved somehow in the Conclave and that shitstorm. Maybe they just need each other for now."

"Perhaps," Leliana mused. "I think I will need to speak with her."

"You speak Elven? Might be a little difficult if you don't."

Now he got a look suggesting he was dense. "You of all people know that body language says far more than words ever could." Yeah, and that was why the Nightingale was just creepy. Nothing got past that iron control. She nodded to him and stood.

"One more thing, Nightingale." She turned back to him. "Just be careful you don't drive her away. The Herald may not forgive you." One last look and she slipped out the side door. Probably no one else even realised that she had been there. Varric nursed the rest of his ale, hoping he hadn't done too much damage.

\-------------

Leliana strode through Haven, nodding at her scouts, both hidden and not. She had found that when people saw the obvious ones, they forgot to look for the hidden. Her mind turned over the mystery of this new mage. No experience, yet she could cast a spell of that magnitude? Understanding two languages but only speaking one that was almost extinct? And the Herald's attachment to her. That was the most troubling. The fledgeling Inquisition could not afford for anyone with an ulterior motive to have undue influence on the Herald. 

She reached the little house by the gates and went to knock, only to pause as she heard a voice singing. The song was Orlesian, with a gentle lilting tune. As Benna sang about golden cages, Leliana leaned against the wall and cast her mind back. She thought she had heard it before, but couldn't place it. Whoever was singing had an almost magical voice. The soft notes seemed to sparkle in the air, blending with the falling snow to become part of the night's quiet.

As the song ended, she shook off her thoughts and knocked gently on the door. The Herald opened it and her eyes widened at seeing Leliana. Gesturing for her to be quiet, she pulled the door open further and invited her in. Looking beyond the entryway, she saw Benna sitting on the edge of the single bed. Already in a nightdress that looked to belong to the Herald, she was singing quietly to a small boy whose sleep-glazed eyes were fixed on her face. As Leliana watched, her song finished and she leaned down to kiss the top of his head, murmuring something in Elven. The boy nodded, shot a look at Leliana and lay down again, keeping his face towards the door.

Benna disentangled her hand from his and stood, smoothing down the nightgown. Moving over to Leliana and the Herald, and gave them both a smile and a questioning look. Getting over her surprise at the small scene, Leliana gave a small smile in return and murmured, "I just wanted to greet you since I missed you earlier. I am Leliana, the Inquisition's information gatherer. I know you met my colleagues earlier, so I wanted to introduce myself." 

The woman raised an eyebrow and said, in passable Common, "Nightingale." Ah. Someone must have already told her. Leliana inclined her head and forced another smile. Now was not the time.

"I'll leave you to rest, I apologise for disturbing you. Perhaps we can speak another time." She received a sceptical nod and a look that indicated that she wasn't fooling anyone, but the Herald ushered her outside.

"Sorry about that Leliana," she said quietly. "Mal had worked himself into a frenzy, convinced that we weren't coming back."

"Think nothing of it; I am sorry that I came by so late. Sleep well, Herald." The elf nodded to her, before closing the door quietly. As Leliana walked away, her concern over this new mage swelled even further. An Orlesian song, and with such a beautiful voice? She paused to give orders for a guard to be placed beside the Herald's door. Anyone who sang like that must be a bard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like everyone's suspicious. Poor Varric, caught in the middle!
> 
> As much as I want to stay in Thedas, we have another Hunter chapter next. He does NOT like to be written.


	11. In Which Cullen Reminisces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thought that this chapter was going to be about Hunter, but he didn't even deign to show up! So I rolled right on to Cullen; that's who we're all interested in anyway!

Benna felt a twinge of disappointment that morning when she opened her eyes to see her familiar bedroom. She'd been able to relax in Haven, and it had been wonderful to spend an evening talking and laughing with friends again. She hadn't had that in over a year. She thought back to Leliana's odd late-night visit as they were going to bed. The woman was like a blank wall, no emotion at all, despite her robotic smiles. As the spymaster, no doubt she'd wanted to get a look at the stranger in their Herald's house. Well, Benna had nothing to hide. Alright, that wasn't strictly true, but she had no bad intentions towards the Inquisition, and especially not Evelynne. She fought the urge to dig deeper into the lives of Josephine, Leliana and the rest. Sure, the information was out there, but somehow it felt like an invasion of their privacy. She'd rather they tell her themselves. 

Work was a welcome distraction, despite how exhausted she felt. It was strange, this sleeping yet awake. Her body was always rested, if a little stiff, but her mind thought that it had been awake for a week straight at this point. She'd been grateful for the quiet periods on the road because they gave her a chance to allow her thoughts to quiet for a while. Work was similar; it was routine but with enough variety to prevent it getting boring. Her training for her new management position was almost done, and her promotion had been announced to the team. Karen, a sweet girl who worked part-time to fund her studies at university, made a point of coming over and saying, "I'm so glad it's you! You totally deserve it, and you'll do much better than someone they hired. We'll all support you." Benna was touched. She hadn't realised how much the team had become friends, to her and each other. 

At home, she found another email from Charity waiting for her. Charity was travelling the world, working as a bartender to fund her way, so her correspondence was somewhat spotty. She had invited Benna to go with her, two girls together. Benna had longed for it; it would have been almost like travelling with her mother, but Hunter had persuaded her to stay. He would have missed her too much. So instead, she lived vicariously through Charity's photos and fun stories of locals and tourists, of monsoon season and weird foods and transport disasters. _'This week on The Charity Show,'_ her friend had written, _'The Tuk-tuk Disaster! Or, how we almost drowned.'_ She went on to describe how the combination of alcohol, a tuk-tuk and a sudden deluge had led to a three-hour detour and even more booze with their new best friend the tuk-tuk driver. Charity's emails always made her laugh, but she felt a bit wistful all the same. Sometimes she wished that she had gone with her.

Making dinner led her to remember Varric's explanation of King's Mercy. It made her laugh out loud, alone in the kitchen. She still didn't know what meat was in it, or even if there was a specific recipe. Perhaps it was just what was collected from the side of the road that day. If she got the opportunity, she resolved to watch more carefully when he made it. Perhaps she could get some tips. Her cooking could certainly do with some improvement.

She started setting the table at the time that Hunter was due to be home. Knives, forks, a bowl of salad... She left the pork chops and potatoes to keep warm in the oven and wiped down the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, she was starting to get a little worried. When he was half an hour late, she sent him a quick text. No response. Should she wait for him? Or eat her meal now? He might be annoyed that she hadn't waited, but he must be stuck at work. Perhaps she should take something over there... but he had the car, so that wasn't really possible. 

In the end, she made herself a snack and tried to pass the time watching a cooking show. Hey, even if she couldn't cook very well, it was still nice to see what other people could manage. Hunter never replied. She didn't want to call in case he was dealing with an emergency. She turned the oven off and plated up their neglected meal. She tried eating hers, but the worry made it difficult. She ended up putting it aside for lunch tomorrow instead. 

By 10pm, she still hadn't heard from him. She decided to stay up and wait for him; he'd be tired and might need her. She dozed off in front of the T.V. Hunter never came home.

\-----------------------------

Cullen was wrestling with himself. Even as he observed training, read reports and barked orders, his mind was elsewhere. With the new mage the Herald had brought home, like a cat with her kittens. Josephine's message had said that she was completely unknown, even to Leliana's birds. There was almost no one they couldn't find. He was so distracted, he almost took a sword pommel to the temple from an over-enthusiastic recruit. The man almost fainted when he saw how close he had been to knocking out his commanding officer. Cullen glared at him and walked away without a word. The recruit looked stricken, but Cullen didn't even notice. 

The bright sound of women's laughter rang over the clash of swords and shouts from soldiers. The Herald and her new pet were tripping down the steps, accompanied by two bundles of energy shaped like children. He fervently hoped that they wouldn't approach him; he had no idea how to deal with children. The boy was immediately drawn to the training grounds. He glanced back and nodded at something the Herald called to him, before settling on a stack of planks and watching the soldiers train with fascination.

Cullen nodded to a soldier taking a break to keep an eye on the boy. The very last thing he needed was a child getting injured on his watch. Let alone the Herald's reaction. He watched the two women leave the little girl at the stables and continue on to the blacksmiths'.

"Rylen, take over. I need to speak with the other advisors."

"Yessir." Absent-mindedly returning the salute, Cullen turned and marched up the steps into Haven proper. _Those eyes..._ He'd been trying to ignore it, but his reactions to... Benna's eyes had disturbed his sleep and prevented him from focusing on his tasks. If he had to talk to Leliana about it, then fine. Something else he'd rather not do, but perhaps it was the lesser of two evils. 

He found Leliana in her command tent in front of the Chantry. She was speaking to one of her agents, so he stood just outside the entrance to catch her eye. When she looked at him, he nodded towards the Chantry doors in invitation. She inclined her head, and he turned towards the building. Dodging Chantry sisters and Josephine's messengers, he took a moment to relax in the shadows of the hall. The sun reflecting off the snow was blinding. He had wondered about including some thin cloth for the soldiers in the mountains to veil their eyes, but decided it could obscure vision too much while fighting. Maker knew they didn't need another handicap against demons and who knew what else. He headed for the war room. He needed some measure of privacy while he spoke to Leliana, for the sake of his own secrets if nothing else. He was just opening the door when he heard her enter the Chantry. Cullen stopped and held the door for her, his spare hand moving of its own accord to rub the back of his neck. He avoided her eyes as she brushed past him with a murmur of thanks, closing the door solidly behind them.

"What is it, Cullen?" Leliana asked. He didn't have to look at her to know she was scanning him, making mental notes about his state of mind.

"This new mage the Herald brought here... what do you know about her?" He walked around the map table to his usual place, unable to look at the spymistress. If he looked at her, this would become a thousand times more difficult.

"Very little." Did Leliana actually sound frustrated? "As far as my agents can tell, she appeared, fully formed, in the Hinterlands, just in time to be saved from demons by the Herald. Varric could tell me little more."

Cullen sighed heavily, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward. As Josephine had said. So he'd have to talk about it after all. "She worries me," he confessed, glancing up briefly. Leliana was stood ramrod straight, her arms folded in front of her.

"I think she worries us all," Leliana returned. "No one seems to know much about her, and yet the Herald has apparently taken her as a long lost sister. That's enough to concern anyone."

"No. I mean, yes, but that's not why she concerns me." He pinched the bridge of his nose, almost growling in frustration. Nothing for it. "Do you remember when we met?"

"In Val-Royaux?"

Maker bless her for sustaining that fiction. "No. Where we _first_ met." 

"Oh." Andraste preserve him, this was much harder than he'd hoped. His memories from that time were murky, but he could recall some pieces of his life after completing his training.

"Cullen, why do you bring up Kinloch? I thought we had agreed to forget about it."

He winced at the mention of the place. Through gritted teeth, he agreed. "But her eyes... this new mage, I mean. I've seen eyes like hers before. At... Kinloch."

_Now_ something escaped from Leliana's control. Her eyes widened. "You think she was a mage there? Or, no. She would have been too young. Perhaps an apprentice? But I thought I met all the apprentices Wynne managed to save..."

Cullen cut her off with a sharp motion. "No. She wasn't there. But her eyes are unusual."

"I did not get a good look; it was dark. Cullen, what, exactly, are you trying to say?"

"There was a mage in Kinloch who had eyes like hers." he ground out. "A man. An elf, actually. You wouldn't remember him; he was Dalish, I think. They rarely take well to Circle life. He... died. Trying to escape. Months before..." He trailed off, unable to finish. 

Leliana nodded. "Months before the Blight took hold." Her face lit up. "Do you think that she might be connected to this elf? Family, perhaps? It would explain her being fluent in Elven..." He glanced up, surprised. "Oh, Josephine didn't tell you? She doesn't speak Common, but she understands with no problems. Strange, no?" She drifted off, sucked into her own thoughts. Cullen relaxed a bit, now they were past the hardest part. Leliana looked back to him. "Do you remember this elf's clan? Where he was from?"

Cullen was already shaking his head. "I don't even remember his name. He was only at the Circle for a matter of weeks. But he never seemed particularly afraid of Templars; he would watch us just as we watched him. He spent most of his time in the infirmary, as I recall. Worked as a medic. I'm not even certain how he died."

"That is a shame. But still, it is a lead I can follow. Thank you for telling me, Cullen." He inclined his head, rolling his shoulders to try to remove the last of the tension there. "If I might offer some advice," Leliana began carefully, "Try not to allow thoughts of what has passed to affect your actions in the future. This mage has no connection to what happened to the Circle. Try to treat her as you would any new recruit. I believe the Herald will be wanting her trained in melee." 

Startled, he burst out, "Maker's breath! The _last_ thing we need are mages trained to be swordsmen as well! They do enough damage as it is!"

Leliana raised an eyebrow. "That is exactly what I mean. Take care not to isolate potential allies, Cullen." Being lectured by Leliana was a bitter pill to swallow, but he kept his tongue behind his teeth and nodded. She tipped her chin in return and glided off, presumably to try and dig up records that hadn't been destroyed in the Tower. He wished her luck. Maker knew what a horrible fucking mess that had been.

Walking back down to the training grounds, he oddly felt lighter. Talking to Leliana had been the right thing to do, even if it was just to get it off his mind. He frowned as his thoughts turned to this new problem; a mage trained in melee. What kind of weapon would the Herald expect? It would be noticed if he refused to train the new mage, but perhaps if he paired her with a Templar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mysteries are mysterious!  
> At least we know why Cullen wasn't very welcoming yesterday...


	12. In Which Smithing Is Attempted

Benna had woken on the floor of Evelynne's cabin tangled up in her bedroll and Shae, who had apparently left the bed at some point to curl up next to Benna like a puppy. She smiled and looked over to where Evelynne was sprawled on her back, her hair half covering her face. Little-boy snores came from the pile of blankets where Mal slept on in solitary splendour. Unwilling to disturb anyone, she lay back down and waited, listening to Haven waking around them. From here the controlled hubbub of the soldiers was audible, and the ring of iron on iron was starting to drift from the distant blacksmiths. 

The little group slept on until a log in the fireplace shifted, causing Evelynne to moan and fling a hand over her face. Benna suppressed a smile. "Evelynne..." She called softly. The elf peeked out from behind her fingers. She gave Benna a sleepy smile which grew as she spotted Shae. Stretching, she remarked quietly, "I think I slept the best I ever have here. I'm still not used to _shemlen_ beds, and the silence always kept me awake. We never sleep alone in my clan."

The snores from the bed ended with a snort and Mal sat up, his hair a dishevelled mess. He blinked sleepily at them for a moment. Memory obviously returning, he threw back the blankets and made to get out of bed. Shae awoke with a squeak as he trod on her outstretched hand, and the pair immediately began to bicker. Shae's argument was that he should have been more careful, and why hadn't he noticed that she wasn't in the bed anymore, whereas Mal contended that she shouldn't have left her hand there in the first place. Evelynne got them calmed down while Benna went to collect some snow to warm for washing.

By the time everyone was washed and combed, they were all hungry. Evelynne had got too distracted the night before to remember that they needed to pick up some food, so they threw their outer gear on and trooped over to The Singing Maiden. Flissa served up mugs of milk, more dark bread and some mysterious sausages. There were also eggs for the children, who tucked in as if they'd never even seen food before. While they were occupied, the adults discussed plans for the day.

"Well, you'll still have your training session with Solas later, but maybe we can have it a bit earlier in the day instead of after dinner. I want to get you a staff, so you can start learning how to use it and maybe you can even make some hot fire; the crystals are supposed to help you channel the right type of energy. That means the blacksmiths, but I also wanted to have you learning some melee weapons. Maybe we should go see the Commander first? So he can help you find the right style? Or, no it wouldn't be the Commander himself, maybe one of his officers? Someone experienced, anyway."

"Benna's goin' to train? I wanna learn too!" Mal interjected, his dwindling breakfast no longer sufficient to hold his attention. He kept eating while they spoke.

"Yes, I want Benna to learn to use a weapon apart from a mage's staff. I think you might be a little young to be a soldier, but perhaps you can learn the basic drills with her?"

"Yes!" Mal cried through a mouthful of egg. "Please! I'll try so so so so hard!" Benna smiled at him. His ambitions were a little worrying, but he was far too young yet to be allowed within sniffing distance of anything sharp. The activity would be good for him.

"I don't wanna be a so-jer." Shae said adamantly. "I wanna go see the horses."

"I'm sure we can manage that; the stables are right next to the blacksmiths. Let's get moving, and don't let me forget to pick up some supplies on our way back!" 

With the children running ahead, they made a quick stop at Solas' empty house to leave a note about magic lessons later on, before strolling down through the gates. They lost Mal as soon as he saw the morning drills, and after warning him to touch nothing, continued on their way. Shae abandoned them in favour of the horses, most of whom put their heads down to nose at her hands. A scout was on duty there, and he promised to keep an eye on her as Shae headed into Nunis' stall to brush as much of the mare as she could reach.

At the blacksmiths, Benna was introduced to Master Blacksmith Harritt, who was a man of few words but many muscles and a splendid moustache. He was happy to allow the Herald to use some materials, and even dug out a few schematics for mage's staffs for them. As they rummaged through a crate of staves of wood, he grunted once and left, presumably to hammer something. 

Benna tried to choose her materials carefully, testing the strength and grain of each stave, as well as how they felt in her hands. She chose a smooth piece of ash, which was light enough for her to move easily and didn't appear to have any flaws. They moved on to constructing the head, choosing an irregular chunk of some type of gold coloured crystal and drakestone, in order to help her with fire magic. The final result was a staff about five feet long, imperfectly balanced but easy to swing around. 

As they finished, Benna's eye was caught by the gleam of sunlight on gold. She glanced up to see the Commander training with his men. He'd removed his fur-collared surcoat, but his plate armour remained. Benna watched, slightly mesmerised by the back-and-forth of the training, each man moving in almost perfect sync with the others. "I wouldn't bother," Evelynne murmured in her ear. Called back to herself, Benna looked at her sharply. "I asked around, when I first got here. Thought I should know something about these people. Apparently, that one's made of iron straight through; not a single friend or need for one." Benna felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She could see that it would be useless to protest that she'd only been watching the group however, so she simply nodded and turned back to wrapping the wire tightly around her staff.

Proud of their efforts with smithing, they left to collect the children for lunch. Shae was covered in hay and horsehair, but smiling happily. Mal hadn't moved from his post on some planks, but was full of chatter. "Did you know that you have to move your feet a lot? I thought soldiers stood still and hit each other with swords, but they keep dancing. And there were some men who didn't even have a sword! I thought all soldiers had swords. What is that called, what that man over there has? I wanted to talk to the Commander but he wasn't there for the longest time and he didn't stop so I couldn't. Cassandra has been hitting that scarecrow with her sword for ages. Why?"

"Wait until you see _my_ training," Evelynne told him with a wink. Of course, that just set off a whole new round of questions. In the end, they sent him off with a note for the quartermaster requesting two more cots for their house, just to use up some of that energy. After lunch at the tavern, they found Varric near his tent and persuaded him to look after the children for a few hours while they trained. He put on a show of reluctance, but they all knew he enjoyed having them around. It sounded like they were going up to the Chantry to explore the dungeons. Evelynne shuddered when that was suggested. 

As they made their way back past the training grounds, Benna brought up something that had been bothering her. "Leliana's visit last night was a bit strange, wasn't it?" Evelynne nodded. "I think she wanted to surprise us. I guess she's unhappy that I haven't yet called a meeting with the advisors to report on my trip to the Hinterlands, but it was probably also about you and the children." She gave Benna a sharp look. "It's not like you've been particularly forthcoming about yourself. I've been with you almost every minute for a week, and I know next to nothing about your life before the Breach."

Benna looked down. She knew she hadn't been helping her case, but how could she explain? No one would believe her. Or they'd think she was a demon or something. "I'm sorry. It's true that I don't really know what I've been doing these last few years. My... husband..."

" _Husband!_ " Evelynne interrupted in shock.

Benna nodded. "He is... elsewhere. I doubt you'll ever meet him. He is often absent for long periods for his work, and I'm left alone."

"But won't he come looking for you?"

"No." Benna said firmly. She sliced her hand through the air to signal that the subject was closed. Thankfully, they had finally reached Solas on the banks of the frozen lake. He nodded to them with a pleasant expression, and held his hand out for her new staff. Inspecting it inch by inch, he finally gave a small smile of approval. "Adequate, considering the materials we have on hand. Perhaps in time, we can find you a better."

Benna smiled back, and brought up something she had been wondering. "Do you think that instead of me training with daggers or something, we could attach a blade to the foot? Then I could use it as a melee weapon, instead of having something else to weigh me down."

He nodded. "That is very possible. It would mean that you cannot use the staff as a walking stick, but a polearm would likely be a better weapon for you anyway. Mages, in general, are not physically strong, so you need to avoid being within grabbing distance as much as possible."

Evelynne let out a little noise, protest and resignation mixed. "I'd wanted to train together!"

Benna laughed out loud. "I'd have been just a beginner! We never would have, even if I was using daggers!" The Herald sighed noisily, and then snorted in a very unladylike manner. Saying that she was going to train alone, she strung her bow and disappeared into almost-invisibility with a grin and a wave. Benna listened for the sound of her moving away, but there was nothing, not even footprints in the snow.

Solas distracted her with lessons. He helped her attune herself to the staff, showing her how to channel her magic through it as if it was an extension of her arm. He swept out a target circle on the lake ice, and asked her to try throwing a fireball. Her first few attempts fizzled pathetically, but when she finally managed to throw one a good ten feet, she almost danced with elation. 

She turned to Solas, grinning in delight, only to pause as he recoiled slightly from her. "Solas? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." He said quietly. Then, louder, "Well done. That is an excellent first attempt. Shall we continue this tomorrow? I fear it is getting late." She looked around in surprise; the sky had dimmed to a dusty lavender and snow was starting to sparkle in the air. 

"Good! I was starting to freeze my toes off!" Came Evelynne's voice from behind them. Benna jumped and turned to find the elf sitting on the rapidly-freezing corpse of a ram. "I said I was getting in some target-practice!" She grinned. "Come on, help me get him back to the village. I'll send the soldiers out for the rest tomorrow." The rest?

The three of them dragged the ram by his impressive horns, finally presenting it to a soldier caught doing nothing right then. Chilled but happy, they stopped in at the blacksmith's to request a blade for Benna's staff, and returned to find the children. Solas left them at the gates with a friendly nod, vanishing into the evening.

Varric had worked a miracle; they were both asleep. "It was nothing," he said when pressed. "All it took was exploring, a bit of snowmelt ale and a story and they both went right off." Benna pursed her lips; she did not approve of giving children ale, no matter how watered down it was. But it didn't seem to have done them any harm. 

The evening ended with yet another meal in the tavern and a couple of mugs of 'the good stuff'. This time, Benna got the impression that Varric was looking for something in his questions. There was a pattern; Something innocuous, then a follow-up question followed by something personal. She withdrew in response to his prying, answering most questions with a shrug. 

As they were leaving, Varric caught her wrist. She panicked, snatching her arm away from him and backing up a step. He raised his hands, but his expression said she'd told him more than she wanted him to know. He kept his eyes on her face. "Just tell me that one day you'll share your story?" She considered, then nodded cautiously. One day. Just not anytime soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Benna and Cullen will actually talk soon.  
> And I'm going to have to fix the language barrier soon...


	13. In Which Questions Are Asked

Benna awoke with a stiff neck from sleeping on the sofa and found a text from Hunter. _I'm fine. Got caught up. See you tonight._ That was it. He must be exhausted. With a rare day off, Benna sped through her list of chores; cleaning and dusting and generally setting the house back in order. She set a chicken to slow-roast and spent some time working through the online materials she had been asked to complete for her promotion. Only a few days now; she was simultaneously excited and nervous, going through all the potential stumbling blocks. She had an irrational fear that if there was a single problem her first week, they would fire her and bring in someone who knew what they were doing.

She had to resist playing more of _Inquisition_ ; she'd made the decision to play no further than she had lived and she intended on sticking to it. But she really wanted to know whether Evelynne would be able to persuade the Chantry in Val-Royeaux to support her. It might make all the difference. Instead, she spent some time paging through the fan websites, exploring the world a little more. Soon she knew that Val Royeaux contained the Grand Cathedral, the seat of the Divine, and that there were golden buildings and music everywhere. It sounded like a cross between Paris and Venice. She hoped that she could see it one day.

She was immersed in this research when Hunter came home. He stood in the doorway, lounging against the frame. "What ya doin'?" he asked. Somehow, Benna didn't like to tell him about researching a game, so she told him instead about the things she had been doing for work. "It sounds complicated. Are you sure you can do it?"

"Oh, well it's not that complicated. See, if..."

"I meant with the math; you know you're not good with numbers. What happens when there's errors in the stock or someone's stealing from the till? You're so bad at math you probably wouldn't notice."

"Well, the management will look over all the figures too, so anything I miss they'll find."

He looked sceptical. "And how many times are they likely to let it slide if you miss things?"

Benna suddenly felt a bit worried. "I'm sure it will be fine, Hunter. Let's have dinner, shall we?"

His comments played over in her mind as they went through the routine. As she washed up from dinner, she asked him, "Do you really think they'd fire me for a few errors in maths? Philipa said they wanted me because I'm so good with people."

"Sure, she _said_ that. But being a manager, even a low level one, needs to be able to pay attention to where the money's going. That's what the company's interested in."

Benna bit her lip. That was ultimately true, but she knew that Philipa cared about more than that. She tried to shake off her doubts. She'd be fine. 

All thoughts of maths and work were driven from her mind when she went to put some washing in the machine. Hunter's shirt from yesterday was among them and as she knelt down, her face got much closer to the pile. That shirt in particular smelled of cigar smoke, and upon further inspection, she found a red wine stain on the cuff. She frowned; clearly, he hadn't been at work all evening. But who had he been with? And where had he slept? Abruptly, she stuffed the shirt into the machine, pouring slightly too much washing liquid on top. She didn't want to know. 

\-----------------------

Evelynne had been dreaming of her clan. She sighed as she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering how they were all doing. She knew that Keeper Deshanna would keep them safe, but she wondered if Halam was still trying to court Shalia, or if Nimue had perfected her triple shot yet. She had never been away from her clan for so long before; she had been on solo hunts of course, but that was only a few days. She had been away for months now, and it didn't seem likely that she would see them anytime soon. They wouldn't come all the way from the Free Marches just for one member.

"What's wrong?" Benna was looking over in concern. It still sounded strange to hear perfect Elven from a human face, but Evelynne had given up wondering the whys of it. She had even started trying to mimic the way Benna spoke; almost no elves could speak Elven as well as she did. Absurd! 

"Nothing really, I just miss my clan. It's been a long time since I even heard from them."

"Where are they? You said they roam around, maybe they'll roam here?"

Another sigh. "No, we stick to the Free Marches. They would never risk unfamiliar land just for me. And with all the chaos, it's probably better that they stay on the far side of the Waking Sea."

"What are they like?" For the rest of the morning, Evelynne told Benna and the children stories about her clan. Like the time a much younger Nimue had shot her in the calf - she showed them the scar. Or when little Tomasi had fallen in the river and half the clan had dived in after him. Or how they made animal masks and decorated their aravels for midwinter. Talking about them helped; it reminded her that they weren't gone, just not here for now. 

Over a breakfast of porridge and a little dried fruit, they discussed what they wanted to do with the day. "Well, we need to clean the horses' tack properly after the journey. We really should have done it yesterday, but today will do just as well."

"I need to call a war council and discuss what Mother Giselle said about the Chantry in Val-Royeaux. Hopefully, we'll be able to persuade them to at the very least not hinder us. And if they could stop calling me a heretic that would be wonderful too. It's ironic isn't it, a Dalish elf who has never set foot in a Chantry service being called heretic?"

"Whats a heretic?" Asked Shae. She had been listening to them talk.

"A heretic is someone who is saying something different than the Chantry does." Evelynne explained. "The Chantry thinks that I'm claiming to speak for Andraste. And they don't like that at all."

"But what if you are? Does that make them heretic?"

"Well... that gets complicated. But I'm going to have to change their minds a bit."

On their way out, they grabbed a scout near the house and asked him to let the advisors know that she was calling a war council. It still made Evelynne uncomfortable to know that everyone in this little village would obey her orders. No one obeyed a hunter except other hunters. And even then they were more likely to argue than obey. She walked with Benna and the children down to the stables, almost dragging Mal away from the drills. She gave Sal a pat and a piece of apple, before saying goodbye to them all and ambling back up the small hill to the Chantry. 

Leliana and Josephine were already there, of course. They were gossiping about some Orlesian noble or other, about his clothes of all things. Leliana seemed particularly upset over his shoes for some reason. Cassandra and Cullen entered together, talking much more sensibly about guard rotations. They all gathered around the map table and began to discuss the information Mother Giselle had brought. Evelynne mostly kept quiet during these discussions; she had little to offer since she barely knew where Val-Royeaux _was_ , let alone who was influential there.

Josephine was the most vocal. "Having the Herald address the Grand Clerics is not a terrible idea. Most of them have only heard about her, and have no idea of the danger we are facing."

"You can't be serious!" Cullen interjected. 

"Mother Giselle is correct: at the moment the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion. If we can persuade even a few of them to doubt..."

"So our objective here is to weaken the Chantry more? I think the death of its leadership did that already."

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald? She is still the greatest chance we have of closing the Breach." Leliana added her support to Cullen's objections.

Evelynne sighed, already tired of their debates. She looked up to an expectant silence. "I'm just not sure the risk is worth the potential gain. At most, the Chantry spends a longer time debating. At worst, they stir the people against us and I'm hung from the nearest tree."

"I will not let that happen; I will go with you." Reassurance from Cassandra? "Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them."

"But why?" Leliana objected. "This is nothing but a -"

"What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. If the Chantry won't help, perhaps at the very least we shall find some allies within Val-Royeaux. Use what influence we have to call the Grand Clerics together. If we speak to them, perhaps we can convince them. Once they are ready, we shall see this through."

The advisors were all silent in the face of Cassandra's fierce determination. Cullen nodded once, Josephine gave a little bow, and Leliana simply inclined her head, still with a sceptical look on her face. 

Evelynne relaxed, pleased that they had been able to reach an agreement without taking hours to talk in circles. These _shemlen_ were far from quick in her opinion. 

Perhaps she had relaxed too soon. "One more thing, if you will." Came Leliana's quiet voice. Evelynne looked up to see her still standing straight, hands behind her back. Josephine glanced up from her tablet and Cullen turned to face the spymistress, one eyebrow raised. "I think we need to discuss this mage, Benna. She has caused concern for all of us." 

They all turned to Evelynne, who gazed flatly back. "What, precisely, has she done that is so worrisome? Please elaborate." Anyone who knew her would have heard the warning in her tone, but none of these people knew her at all. She was convinced that they barely saw her as a person, just a mark on a hand.

"Well," began Leliana, "there is the fact that she apparently appeared at Redcliff Farms with no prior history. She has not given any background that we have heard of, and my agents cannot find any trace of her. She is full of oddities; her speech and manner are Elven, but she is human. She has no training as a mage, yet can cast a hugely powerful spell that should require mastery. She professes no loyalties, no allegiances. Yet I have reason to believe that she speaks Orlesian. She was certainly trained as a bard."

"There are three main questions to answer." Josephine added composedly. "Who she is, where she comes from, and how she gained so much influence over the Herald of Andraste in such a short period of time."

Cassandra was looking disgusted. "I do not support this." She warned the others. "Mage Benna has been nothing but helpful and open. Not once has she given me reason for concern, and her behaviour has allayed my initial suspicions."

"But it is her behaviour that has me concerned," countered Leliana darkly. "If you'll allow it, I could question her. I am bard-trained myself; I know what can bind loyalties."

Evelynne could no longer hold back her rage. "How dare you!" She glared impartially around the room. The mark crackled through her glove in response, casting green shadows on the walls. "The three of you are acting like she did something wrong! She gained her 'influence' as you call it, by being my friend at a time when I have _nothing_ and _no one_. She is just as alone as me! And you!" She rounded on Leliana, who looked as taken-aback as everyone else. " _How dare you_. I know what _questioning_ means! You would scar her further, just to calm your own deluded suspicions?"

At that, everyone looked bewildered. "Have none of you noticed? Varric certainly has. She flinches when anyone comes close. Even me or the children! Anytime she is touched, she shrinks away. Do you really think she could have nothing to hide from? Do you think she learned to fear like _that_ from bard training? You can all go fuck yourselves."

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. As the echoes died away, the four advisors avoided each other's eyes. None of them had ever seen the Herald in such a rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Evelynne was not happy!


	14. In Which Mal Investigates

Cullen was shaken. He had never even imagined that the Herald could get that angry. She had always been calm and polite, even when the rest of them were arguing. She had acted as a welcome voice of reason. And now she was, justifiably, seething with the lot of them. Cassandra looked stricken, her gloved hands clenched into fists. Josephine had dropped her diplomatic mask and was staring at her tablet as if she had never seen it before. Leliana... she was wearing the most open expression Cullen had seen on her face. It seemed to be a mix of guilt and grief. He didn't know much about her life, but something the Herald said seemed to have struck a chord. He shifted his weight, unsure what to say.

Eventually, Josephine cleared her throat. "We shall have to discuss the matter with the Herald, when she is less... overwrought."

"No," came Leliana's musical voice. "I shall have to apologise. Perhaps she is right, and my suspicions have overwhelmed my sympathy. I know that Divine Justinia would not have treated this mage with such coldness, no matter where she came from."

"Do you think that the Herald truly feels she has no one? The entire Inquisition would stand with her." Cassandra looked genuinely distressed by the idea.

"It is true that she has none of her people here. We must remember that she comes from a culture entirely different from ours. And I doubt that she feels comfortable with any of us yet; we locked her in a dungeon without question. Perhaps she identifies with Benna. We should not interfere with this friendship unless it becomes... troublesome." Josephine had apparently recovered her composure, scribbling notes on her tablet. Was she actually writing a reminder about the Herald's cultural differences? 

"Cullen, perhaps you should speak with the Herald, convey our apologies." Cassandra suggested.

"Maker, no! I'd just make it worse!" 

"But you are the only one who did not speak. Perhaps she would be more willing to listen to you."

He sighed and nodded, knowing they wouldn't take no for an answer. "I will try. But you should all speak to her. And Benna. You shouldn't think that the Herald won't tell her friend about that conversation." The women nodded. Cullen pushed away from the war table. "If you'll excuse me." He left the silent room, nodding distractedly to those he recognised. The swell of whispers in the busy Chantry came to a halt at his appearance. Another sigh. Of course, people would have noticed the Herald storming out of a war council. He should just be glad that they hadn't raised their voices too much.

Escaping out into the sunlight, Cullen took a deep breath. He still didn't really like small spaces, and even the war room felt a little confined. He always felt better in the open air, even if the chill burned his lungs. He settled his shoulders and walked down through Haven to the training grounds and the ever-growing pile of paperwork in his tent. He kept an eye out for the Herald, but didn't really expect to see her. She had probably gone to calm down somewhere private.

He found Solas waiting near his tent, along with Benna and the boy... Mal, wasn't it? Solas obviously read the surprise on his face. "I'm here only to translate. The Herald sent me a note requesting it." The elf's face was calm, but Cullen could see that Solas had already realised that something was wrong. "The Herald would like to request training for the Lady Benna, and Mal here refused to be left behind."

"'m gonna be a so-jer!" the boy interrupted. "Evelynne said you'd teach me. D'you think I'll be as big as you one day?" Benna said something in Elven, and Mal subsided with a mutter. But he didn't take his eyes off Cullen. He tried to keep his voice soft and even.

"Ah. I was informed that you would want to train. What sort of weapon will you be using?" Looking between them, Cullen couldn't help but notice that Benna had stood so she had her back to a tent, and that she was out of grabbing distance from Solas. Didn't she trust him? They'd travelled together for the better part of a week. She had also withdrawn as Cullen approached; her shoulders were slightly hunched and she had her arms crossed in front of her. She kept her eyes on him, but didn't make eye contact. Her gaze flickered from his hands and torso to his face and back again. He had seen that reaction before. There could be little doubt that what Evelynne had said was true. Benna had learned to fear somewhere, and it probably wasn't from demons. 

In answer to his question, Benna pulled her new staff from the holster on her back. Cullen had to fight his instinctive reaction, but hoped that he'd managed to hide his slight flinch. Benna reversed the staff, gesturing to the blunt end. "We will be attaching a blade to the end of her staff." Solas supplied.

"Oh! That's a good idea. A polearm will help you fend off anything that gets too close, and you won't have to get used to wealding two different weights. Until your staff is finished, we can get you started on training with a halberd or spear; the techniques will be slightly different because those weapons are longer, but the basic drills will be the same."

"Not me! I wanna sword!" Mal objected. Cullen shook his head.

"All soldiers under my command begin their training with a staff or spear. If they cannot demonstrate a good ability with that, they do not move on to sword training. If you are learning from me or one of my men, you are under my command. So practice with the staff first."

"Then I shall leave them in your capable hands, Commander." Solas nodded briefly, said something in Elven to Benna, and left.

Startled by the abrupt exit, Cullen remarked: "Well, nice to talk with you too." It startled a laugh out of Benna, and he turned to give her a crooked smile. She had holstered her staff, and smiled back at him, her body language a bit more relaxed. "I'm not sure we were properly introduced. I'm Commander Cullen Rutherford, in charge of the Inquisition's forces. That means that I'm in charge of the army, such as it is, including training, assignments and protecting Haven from any incursion. It also means that I have a pile of paperwork as tall as you sitting in my tent waiting for me." That garnered another laugh from her, and she gestured to Mal to introduce them.

"'m Mal, from near Redcliff. I got a sister called Shae but she don't wanna train she wants to brush the horses _again_ so we left her behind. This is Benna, she's kind and she brung us here 'cos Mama told us to run and wait but she never came. Benna give us clothes and food and she sings really pretty so I wanna stay with her till we find Mama." Surely the boy had to take a breath soon? "Evelynne said she's a herflick but I dunno what that means so I'm gonna be a so-jer like you so I can look after Shae if bad things come like before. Benna doesn't speak Common very well she's tryin' to learn but she's not very good so you pro'lly won't understand her but she understands you."

Maker's breath. Cullen was amazed the boy was still conscious. A small gesture from Benna brought the chatter to a halt, and Mal stepped back to take her hand in his rather grubby one. "Herflick?"

Benna smiled in amusement. "Heretic." She managed in passable Common. 

Cullen snorted with laughter. "Right." He looked back at her. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to train you myself, the Inquisition keeps me too busy signing things." Now he had seen her smile, he wanted to see a few more. She had a face that was made for smiles. He turned and yelled over his shoulder, "Someone fetch Lysette!" He saw Benna flinch from the corner of his eye and silently cursed himself. He needed to take more care. He turned back and said gently "Lysette is one of the professional soldiers we have here. She will be able to train you in basic drills and sparring."

Benna nodded, folding her arms over her chest again. She must be feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the people. "Would you two come into my tent? It's a little quieter and a lot warmer." She looked unsure, but nodded, dodging people as they walked. Cullen held the flap open, tying it back as he entered so she didn't feel trapped. Mal was already standing in front of the armour stand, staring in awe at his helm. It was shaped into the face of a snarling lion, the golden embellishments reflecting the light.

No one said anything. Cullen shifted his weight, one hand moving to rub the back of his neck. What was he supposed to say now? Benna was staring at the ground again, obviously unsure. "How are you?" he blurted. When she glanced up at him, a small frown forming between her eyes, he stumbled to clarify, "I... I mean, how are you adjusting to Haven? I know you find it difficult to speak to many people, but..." He trailed off. Andraste preserve him. Was he incapable of forming one sentence that was not about soldiers? Her frown smoothed away and she nodded. "Is... new. _Bel shemlen._ No many..." 

" _Shemlen_ means humans? I have heard it before. You mean there are lots of humans but not many elves or dwarves?" She nodded, her face brightening as they managed to communicate. "Have you ever met a qunari?" At the small shake of her head, he chuckled. "Well, at least we have more elves and dwarves than qunari. Though I doubt many would want to join us." She said something in Elven. It sounded like a question. "Why? Most follow the Qun, and want little to do with the rest of the world. Those that don't tend to be fiercely independent."

"Why" She repeated. "Why... you... Inquisition?"

"Why did I join the Inquisition?" He was honestly surprised that she even wanted to know. "I joined because... I wanted to be able to make a difference. The world had gone mad, and Divine Justinia's plan seemed to be the only way forward. If I could help to protect those whose lives have been destroyed by this insanity, how could I not join?" She stared at him a moment, another frown marring her face before she nodded in understanding. More Elven, gesturing to him, and herself. "You feel that same? Is that why we gained two half-sized members along with you?" She grinned and nodded. He smiled back. "Perhaps..."

A sudden yelp from Mal, forgotten until now, caused him to jerk his gaze away from the mysterious woman. The boy had managed to take Cullen's campaign sword from its stand. He was hunched over, half crouching over it on the ground. Benna rushed over to him, crouching beside him and asking something in Elven. Mal's back was shaking, half-suppressed sobs escaping. Benna took hold of one arm and pulled it from the protective ball. Cullen hissed between his teeth. Mal had somehow cut open his palm from one side to the other. 

He strode over and bodily picked up the boy. He weighed almost nothing. Placing him on Cullen's own cot, he handed Benna a mug of water and gestured to her to rinse the wound. Throwing open a chest, he rapidly rummaged through the various items until he found a clean cloth pad. Grabbing Mal's hand he pressed the cloth to the cut and brusquely told Benna to "Hold that there." She had withdrawn again as he burst into movement, but she quickly did as he said, gripping Mal's hand firmly with both of her own. By now, the boy's sobs had escalated into small howls. He was obviously trying not to cry, which only made things worse. 

Leaving Benna to try and calm him, Cullen returned to the chest, drawing out his field healing kit. Unsure of what was needed, he took out a pain relief tonic, cleansing potion and bandages. He considered the needle and thread, but decided against scaring the boy more for now. He popped the cork on the tonic and held it out to Mal. "Here. Drink this. It will dull the pain." It took the boy a few tries between gulping sobs, but he drank the entire thing without question. 

Finally able to think through his panic and surprise, Cullen sat down beside Mal. "Let me see that hand." Benna lifted the pad to reveal a deep cut, running horizontally across Mal's palm, from the base of his thumb to just under his smallest finger. Cullen winced in sympathy. From experience, he could tell that it would need stitches. "Can you move your fingers?" He asked quietly. It took a moment, but Mal was able to wriggle all his fingers, including his thumb. Cullen let out a small sigh of relief; no tendons had been cut then. 

The tonic was calming as well as an anaesthetic. Mal's tears had slowed, and he had begun to shiver slightly. Shock. Gesturing to Benna to replace the cloth, Cullen grabbed for the blanket folded at the foot of the cot. He wrapped it around Mal and tucked in the edges, until all that could be seen was a white face and the injured hand. "This is a bad cut; it will need a few stitches and several weeks to heal. What happened?" 

While Cullen reached for the cleansing potion and the healing kit for needle and thread, Mal managed to explain, in halting stutters. "I... I didn't mean to! I was lookin' at the sword... and it's so... I wanted to hold it... So I could think 'bout how I'm gonna be a so-jer... one day... An' I tried to take it down but it was too heavy an' it was fallin' so I tried to catch it... I'm sorry Commander I won' do it again!" This last was said in a rush as Mal finally focussed on Cullen's face.

Benna had moved to sit on the bed on the other side of Mal. One arm was around him while the other supported his arm as Cullen cleansed the wound and prepared the sewing kit. She murmured a comforting stream of Elven, rubbing Mal's back. He leaned against her, his teeth chattering slightly. Cullen looked up at both of them. "This needs stitches. It is going to hurt a little, but it will help with the healing. Do you think you can be still while I do it, or would you prefer to go to the healers?"

Mal shook his head. "Can we do it here? I don' wanna cause no more trouble." Cullen nodded, glancing at Benna for her permission. She met his eyes and nodded. That silent agreement, evidence of trust, warmed him a little. Maybe he hadn't frightened her too much. Advising Mal not to look, he tied a knot at the end of the fine thread, and set to work. He tried to set small stitches, mindful of the relative size of his patient. Benna kept Mal's attention by singing a soothing song in Orlesian. No wonder Leliana thought she was a bard, with a voice like that. 

As he tied off the final stitches and wrapped a bandage around the cut, Cullen looked up to find that Mal had fallen asleep on Benna's shoulder. Apparently, the shock and pain had been too much for him. He quirked an eyebrow at Benna. "What now? Should we leave him here to sleep?" She shook her head, gesturing to herself and the boy. "You want to stay with him? Should we move him to your cabin? It would be more restful."

She smiled and nodded, gently leaning Mal the other way in order to stand up. Cullen suddenly found himself with a child asleep against him. "Let me carry him; he doesn't weigh much." Benna looked him in the eye for a moment, then back at Mal. Nodding a little cautiously, she went to help him but Cullen reached one arm under Mal's legs and stood in a smooth motion, holding Mal across his chest, blanket and all. He almost bumped foreheads with Benna as she started to lean down to Mal.

Benna backed up to make room, and then another step. Her hands fluttered as if she wanted to soothe his hurts. Gesturing with his head, Cullen followed her out of the tent. He found Lysette waiting. "Ser! I didn't want to get in the way. Do you need any help?"

He shook his head. "Thank you Lysette, but I'm fine. This is Benna; she will be your student in the fine art of the spear. And possibly this young man too." Benna shook her head, frowning in concern.

Lysette nodded to Benna. "Pleased to meet you. We'll meet and discuss your training soon. Perhaps tomorrow?" Benna gave the other woman a small smile and a nod, before ushering Cullen towards Haven's gates. 

"I'll return momentarily Lysette. I'll brief you properly once we have this young man in his own bed." Cullen nodded in response to her salute and followed Benna across the snowy ground. 

She stopped short, and he almost ran into her. "Oh! Shae!" Cullen frowned, and then remembered.

"The little girl? Mal said she was in the stables?" He caught the eye of a soldier who didn't seem to be doing anything. "Go to the stables and find a miss Shae. She's about the age of this lad. Escort her back to her cabin once she's finished doing whatever she's doing." The soldier saluted and Benna gave Cullen a warm smile. "Shall we get him inside?" Nodding, she led the way to the little house she shared with the Herald.

Inside, Cullen gently placed the boy on the bed in the corner, before turning to Benna. "He should be careful with that hand; it's going to hurt quite a lot. The healers will give you cleansing potions; it should be washed and rewrapped every morning." Remembering how grubby small boys could get, he amended, "Possibly each night as well. He should try to avoid getting it wet, too." Benna smiled up at him, her face full of gratitude. She gestured to the mugs on a shelf, and then to the chairs, murmuring something in Elven.

"You are inviting me to stay for a drink?" Cullen was surprised, yet again. "Uh... thank you, but I must decline. Poor Lysette will be waiting for me." She inclined her head. Was that disappointment or relief? Feeling a little unbalanced, Cullen inclined his head to her and left. He glanced back as he closed the door behind him. Benna seemed to have already forgotten him. She was tucking the blankets around the boy, humming that same song. 

Cullen sighed; it made him miss his own mother. Shaking off his melancholy, he turned to return to his tent and brief Lysette on her new student. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen truly is a man of action, not words...
> 
> Sorry for the delay in posting; I had work and stuff. Also, these two are difficult to write since Benna can't really speak to him and Cullen is so endearingly awkward.
> 
> Xx


	15. In Which Evelynne Speaks

It was late when Evelynne returned to the cabin. She had been out in the woods surrounding Haven, shooting at anything that moved. It had started with target practice at trees, but after she had shattered an arrow on a frozen trunk, she had switched to hunting. Her accuracy hadn't been the best; you have to be calm and centred to really hunt. But she had persevered, bagging a few of the wild rams that roamed the area. Playing tag with an angry druffalo had exhausted the last of her anger. 

She had accidentally hit it with an arrow aimed at a ram, and the enraged animal had charged her. They had much thicker hides than the rams, and her arrows often glanced off the thick skull. She had kept at it though, dancing around the druffalo and disappearing into stealth to avoid its charge. She had a few bruises to show for the encounter, but eventually, exhaustion and blood loss had taken it down. Unable to move the massive beast, she left a note for Commander Cullen about its location. Hopefully it would feed the soldiers for a day or two, and the hide would be useful.

She shrugged out of her coat and kicked off her boots, leaning against the door with a sigh. The heat from the fire began to warm her frozen extremities, and she massaged the tips of her ears with a grimace. They were much more sensitive than human ears, and frostbite would be awful. Both children were asleep, and Benna was sat by the fire, humming to herself. Evelynne had noticed that she often sang or hummed in unguarded moments, but almost never where anyone else could hear. Evelynne considered herself privileged to be one of the few who had heard Benna sing. 

Benna looked up as Evelynne entered the main room. "Is everything alright?" She asked Evelynne quietly. She sighed again, avoiding Benna's eyes. She glanced down to see that Benna had been hemming one of Evelynne's tunics. A stack of similar clothes, for both Evelynne and the children, rested beside her. Evelynne felt the sight hit her like a blow. Benna was so... _kind_. She was mending their clothes. And yet she had nothing for herself. She was still wearing the dress that was completely the wrong size, just because no one had bothered to find her something better. Not even Evelynne. And those... _banal'lin_ wanted to 'question' her? She was so much better than all of them. 

She shook her head in response to Benna's question and turned to stare into the fire. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Benna's hesitation, but she picked up her sewing again. "You don't have to do that," Evelynne said abruptly.

"Do what?"

"Mend my things. I can do it."

"I don't mind. It's nice to have something to do. Oh! There's some soup in the pot. We saved it for you." Every word just made Evelynne feel worse. There was such a confusing swirl of emotions inside her, she wasn't sure if she wanted to yell, cry or laugh. Benna fell silent as she struggled with it, and it was a long time before Evelynne spoke again. 

"I was so angry today." Benna glanced over at her, but didn't say anything. She turned back to gaze at the fire. "The advisors and I agreed on a course of action with Val-Royeaux; I'll be leaving in a few days to speak to the Grand Clerics. Then Leliana wanted to talk about you." She finally looked at her friend. Benna was listening with a solemn look on her face, the sewing held forgotten on her lap. It was as if she knew that meeting Evelynne's eyes would be too much for her. "She has convinced herself that you are a bard." Benna's forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "Bards are trained to entertain and flatter, but they are really spies. Leliana heard you singing. She thinks you're a spy and wants to question you to discover your loyalties. Josephine supported her! I... I raged at them all. Now I worry that if I go to Val-Royeaux they'll take the opportunity to... I don't think I could bear it if something happened while I was gone. You're only here because of me! And you care so much and try to look after us..." Evelynne was weeping now, tears trickling down her face. "How can I even begin to trust any of them when they do things like this? All my life I've heard about the brutality of humans, and the Chantry in particular. Nothing I've seen has convinced me otherwise."

She fell silent, gasping as she tried to get her emotions under control again. Benna still hadn't moved, still hadn't looked at Evelynne. The silence stretched, until a log shifted in the fireplace. Benna blinked and finally turned to her. "I do not believe that of all of them. I have no doubt that Leliana would torture me in an instant if she thought it would further her agenda; that woman is as cold as that lake out there. Josephine strikes me as someone who sees people as game pieces, ready to be moved to her will; don't you remember how unhappy she was when you decided that we would live with you, without her input? But Cassandra and Cullen... you didn't mention them. What do they think?"

Evelynne shrugged helplessly. "Cassandra was... annoyed. She flat out told me that she didn't support them. Said you'd done enough to earn some measure of her trust. I suppose you should be flattered; she certainly hasn't said that about me."

Benna smiled. "I think you can trust that what Cassandra says is what she really thinks. She does not hide her thoughts." Evelynne startled herself with a small giggle. Benna's smile faltered. "And Cullen? Did he stand with the Nightingale?"

Evelynne snorted. "Cullen did as he usually does. Stay silent unless asked for an opinion. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but that was likely because of the four women yelling around him."

Benna frowned, and her eyes drifted over to where the children were sleeping. "I do not believe that he would support the torture of anyone. I spent a little time with him today at the training grounds - where _you_ sent me with Solas. He seems... unsure of anything that isn't his role. But he was... kind. He was the first person other than Varric who has even tried to talk to me. He asked me how I was settling into Haven. And... Mal cut his hand, badly." Evelynne gasped and looked across to the bed. Getting up, she carefully dug the bandaged hand out from the blankets without waking either child. She glanced back at Benna, who had wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were cold. "I was panicking, but Cullen knew exactly what to do. He gave Mal a pain tonic and cleaned and stitched the wound... He even carried Mal back here himself. He had no reason to do any of that. He could have sent us off to the healers. He could have expected me to do it, or one of his men..." Benna trailed off. Evelynne came to sit beside her again, and took her friend's hand. Her fingers were cold.

"He scares me." Benna admitted quietly. "He's so... big and fierce and stern with his men. But today, he was careful and calm. Almost... gentle with Mal, and me too. So I don't really believe that he would support Leliana. But you'll have to speak to him to know for sure."

Evelynne sighed quietly. She was suddenly starving. She reached for the pot kept warm by the fire, sitting down on the hearth to eat. Benna handed her a chunk of bread. As she ate, she thought about what Benna had said. Perhaps Cullen could be an ally. She had tried to talk with him, but admittedly not very hard. She had seen his preoccupation with the army and dismissed him as a soldier with no other purpose. But from what Benna had said, he was kind under all that shiny metal. 

"You will have to tell them something you know." Benna glanced at her, startled. Evelynne explained. "Part of the problem is that you appear to have no background. Leliana is sending her scouts everywhere looking for some trace of you. She has found nothing. You will have to tell them something about where you come from. All they have is my word, and apparently, that's not good enough." Benna nodded, sighing. 

The two friends sat in silence for another few minutes, before turning to their bedrolls. Just as Evelynne made to lie down, Benna reached over and hugged her. It was the first time she had initiated physical contact. "It will be alright." she murmured. Before Evelynne could return the hug, she had let go and slipped into her blankets. It took Evelynne a long time to sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this one, but I felt like it needed to be written. Evelynne and Benna's friendship is important for both of them.
> 
> Elven
> 
> banal'lin - darkspawn, enemy, lit. nothing person


	16. In Which Agreements Are Reached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting; I needed to take a few days to think over what I wanted to include for the next few chapters.

The next day brought several surprises for Benna. It started with Evelynne practically dragging her to Haven's tailor. Her friend almost begged her to get measured and order some new clothes, despite Benna saying that the green dress was fine. "I want to throw that thing in the fire! Just choose something better." Evelynne almost shoved her through the door. The women there nodded and bobbed and promised the Herald that 'Lady Benna' would be properly clothed within the week. Ignoring Benna's protests, Evelynne and the seamstress' measured every part of her body, twittering like sparrows about cut and colour. After ordering her four outfits, two for training and two for casual wear, Evelynne hustled her to the blacksmiths. Her blade wasn't ready, but she was measured again, this time for armour. Mal was fascinated but refused to go anywhere near the shed, standing outside and peering in from a safe distance. 

Next was a brief meeting with Solas, before her training later. Evelynne wanted him to go with her to Val-Royeaux, so she asked him to come up with a training program Benna could follow safely while he was gone. He promised to come up with something, but when Benna suggested going to the other mages for advice, he sniffed and looked superior. He did not recommend learning from Circle mages.

Lastly that morning was a meeting with Lysette, the soldier Cullen has assigned as her teacher in melee. With Evelynne translating, they discussed her weapon, previous experience and expectations. "You cannot expect to become a master warrior," Lysette warned her. "You're simply starting too late. But I can certainly teach you to defend yourself better than most would expect, and well enough to protect yourself until help arrives." That was good enough for Benna; she remembered how helpless she had felt at the waterfall in Redcliff. She never wanted to feel that way again. 

They finally whirled to a stop at the Singing Maiden. Today, Flissa had managed to create something similar to a stir-fry; thin cut strips of ram with root vegetables and the ever-present bread. And lots of salt. Benna found herself drinking an extra mug of snowmelt ale, just to counter it. Evelynne finally gave a deep sigh and started to relax. Just as she was taking a bite, Benna said quietly "Just because you're going away doesn't mean you have to wrap me up like a doll, _ma' falon._ " Evelynne looked a bit guilty.

"I just want to make sure that you have everything you need; you'll have enough to do while I'm gone. And since I have this position," She gestured to her marked hand "I might as well use it for something good. I don't want you to have to worry about anything."

Benna smiled at her friend. "We'll all worry about you; I think everyone in Haven knows that this could be a trap."

Evelynne snorted. "The Chantry has nothing left except words; no forces, no mages, no influence and no Divine. I very much doubt that anything they tried to do could hold me."

"Still, there's some risk. I hope you'll be careful."

As they finished their lunch, a runner approached the table. When Evelynne gestured for him to speak, he bowed slightly and said, "The Lady Josephine requests that you come to speak with her at your convenience, Your Worship, Lady Benna." Benna was surprised; what could Josephine want with her? Evelynne sighed, dismissing the messenger. "I suppose this is to try and explain how she wasn't wrong to want you... questioned, and that I overreacted. Creators, I hate this! You can never trust _shemlin_. They give with one hand and take with the other."

"Evelynne, I'm not going to tell you how you should feel, but you shouldn't let it affect you. Regardless of your personal feelings, you need to maintain a professional relationship with your advisors. Try to remember that they have dedicated their lives to the Inquisition, even before you became the Herald. Josephine and Leliana likely forgot that they were talking about real people."

"That's exactly the problem!" Evelynne cried. Seeing the curious glances around the tavern, she lowered her voice. "If they can't see real people, real suffering, how are they going to make the world better? I've seen what impersonal logic has made; the mages and Templars have ripped it to shreds. No, they need to understand that their every decision could cost a life."

Benna sighed and nodded, resigned to the fact that her friend was still too angry to really hear what she was trying to say. She hoped that Evelynne would calm down enough to maintain a working relationship, if nothing else. 

Deciding that they might as well get the conversation over with, they left the children at the stables, under the eye of the scout on duty. Benna waved to Cullen as they passed, receiving an obviously surprised wave in return. Evelynne chuckled at his awkwardness, and admitted that she wasn't as angry at him as she was with the Diplomat and Spymistress. "Honestly, he seemed as surprised as I was." Benna was a bit relieved; she had almost liked Cullen yesterday, and she didn't like to think that he might have been plotting with the Nightingale about her. 

Entering the Chantry, Benna nervously brushed at the mud and snow clinging to the hem of her too-long dress. She knew she looked a mess, but without other clothes, there wasn't much she could do about it. Privately, she appreciated that Evelynne had insisted that she get properly fitted clothes, but she also felt that it was a waste of resources. Guilt and pleasure mixed. 

At the door to Josephine's office, Benna was reminded of the moment in front of Philipa's door just a week or so ago. She almost started giggling at the image of their prim Ambassador ploughing into Evelynne, but she knew that Josephine was far too dignified to run anywhere. She bet that even if there was a fire or something, Josephine would just blink calmly and let the proper authorities know. 

The office was empty, however, except for a young elf woman with her red hair tied severely back. Evelynne greeted her in Elven. "Hello, Minaeve! How are you recently? I hope the samples we brought from the Hinterlands were helpful."

Minaeve inclined her head in a gesture of respect. "Herald. Yes, thank you. We now have a much better idea of the weaknesses of those creatures, so our troops should have an easier time in the field." As Benna hung back awkwardly, the two elves continued to chat, until Minaeve frowned. "Must we speak Elven? I believe we have spoken about my dislike for that culture." Benna was surprised, but smiled when Evelynne gestured her closer.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wanted to introduce you to Benna. I'm afraid she only speaks Elven, but she understands Common, so you can speak that to her if you like. Benna, this is our Head of Creature Research, Minaeve. She's a mage too, and she's taking samples of the various creatures we fight in the field, including demons! She's studying them so we can fight them more effectively, which I think is fascinating. It's sort of like what we hunters do; we have to know and understand what we hunt before we can be truly successful." Minaeve had been staring at Benna during this speech, but she gave her a shallow bow and murmur of acknowledgement before turning back to Evelynne. "I am hardly a mage, your Worship. Just an apprentice, and not a very good one at that." She glanced back to Benna "Just enough magic to hurt others."

Benna smiled at her, despite her rather stiff manners. "That means you know more than me; I've only just started learning. Perhaps you can give me a few tips? I'd like to learn so I won't hurt someone accidentally."

They were interrupted as Josephine came in. Under the resulting bustle, Minaeve leaned closer to Benna and whispered: "We will speak later." With a nod and a small smile, Benna turned back to Josephine, who was mid-way through an obviously carefully thought apology. She stood away from the desk, listening to the flowery words and excuses, wondering if Josephine had rehearsed this in her head. The speech clearly wasn't having the effect she desired though; Evelynne was standing with her arms folded, cooly listening to the Ambassador without expression. 

As Josephine finished, Evelynne nodded once. "Apology accepted Josephine. As you say, let us put it behind us." Her face, however, told everyone in the room that she might forgive, but she would not forget. Obviously deciding to take the Herald at her word, Josephine turned to Benna. 

"I was wondering, my Lady, if you might consider meeting with me in the mornings? Varric tells us that you are best able to learn Common through reading. Perhaps you could assist me with the letters the Inquisition receives, and I could lend you books? That way, you'll be able to have any questions you have answered."

Benna was surprised. Josephine was going to let her read Inquisition letters? What happened to them not trusting her? Still, she considered, Varric would be leaving soon, and it wasn't like she had any other opportunities for reading. She looked over to Evelynne, who gave a half shrug, indicating that Benna could accept or refuse this olive branch as she wished. Cautiously, she nodded, and Josephine's face lit up. "Excellent! If it's acceptable to you, we will meet for two hours at the ninth bell. That is when I usually deal with our correspondence. I warn you," Her smile returned, a little mischievously "The letters we receive are usually from various dignitaries, requesting and demanding many concessions. It will not be exciting work, but it may prove interesting." Interesting to who? Benna wondered. She shrugged and nodded again as Evelynne finally unfolded her arms.

"Thank you for the offer, Josephine. We will leave you to your work." Nodding to the diplomat, and smiling at Minaeve, they left the office, only to be immediately cornered by Leliana, who asked that they join her in the war room. "I think she must have been waiting to ambush us," Evelynne muttered in Elven. Benna fought off a smile. Leliana gestured to the rarely-used chairs against the wall and joined them. She was obviously attempting to put them at ease, but Benna could see the smile was more of a mask than anything else. Leliana had managed the trick of making her eyes smile as well as her mouth, but Benna saw the calculation in every gesture.

With her back straight and hands folded on her lap, Leliana began her own apology. "I asked to speak with you, Herald, because I believe that you were correct yesterday. I was overreacting to my own ignorance. However, that does not remove my concerns." Her eyes flickered to Benna. "The fact that the Lady Benna is so close to you is cause for concern, especially since we have almost no information about her. Forgive me," She turned to speak directly to her "But we must be cautious; too many people already want the Herald dead, simply for holding that title. I have discovered many plots against her, and your appearance was too perfect to not be suspect. If you are willing, I wish to ask you a few questions."

Benna sighed; it wasn't unexpected, but how could she explain? If she told them this was all a dream to her... they'd think she was insane, or lying, or twisted by magic. Yet if she didn't answer Leliana's questions, she had no doubt that she would be asked in a much less pleasant manner. She smiled a secretive smile, and turned to Evelynne. "Ask her if she will trade; a truth for a truth." Evelynne's eyes widened.

"Why? I doubt she'll agree."

"She wants my secrets; don't you want hers in return? You said you can't trust any of them, now is the time to get some answers." Evelynne nodded and turned back to Leliana. "She says that she will answer your questions if you give your own answers. It seems only fair; I only know two things about you; that you are Orlesian, and that you are the Left Hand. I would certainly like to know more about someone I put so much trust in." The last words were delivered with a particular emphasis; Evelynne had been expected to trust the advisors completely, without any information or assurances. And they had essentially forced her to join the Inquisition. It wasn't an unreasonable request, and Leliana knew it. She looked like she was suppressing a wince, but she cautiously nodded. "We will each answer the same questions, then. My first is; where did you grow up?"

Benna sighed. This again. Evelynne translated as she spoke. "I don't know where I was born, and I'm not from a particular place. My mother and I travelled constantly; our only possessions were what we could carry with us. I believe we spent a lot of time in Ferelden, some in the Free Marches and some in Orlais. But we may have travelled further." The last sentence was a lie, of course, but she needed to give Leliana something.

Leliana nodded, looking thoughtful. She replied with her own answer. "I was born in Orlais, though my mother was Ferelden. After she died I was raised by an Orlesian noblewoman on the coast of the Waking Sea. You speak of your travels in the past tense. What have you been doing since?"

Benna shrugged helplessly. "I met my husband just as I came into adulthood. He convinced me to stay with him, but it is not in my nature. He travels a lot for his employment, so I take short trips while he's absent. He would not be pleased if he knew." There. That was as close as she could get to the truth. 

Leliana's other questions were about her education and schooling, easily answered. Benna made sure to keep her eyes on the Nightingale, allowing her to judge her honesty for herself. She just hoped that her minor evasions would not cause yet more distrust. Leliana seemed to soften as she spoke about the past, remembrances giving her eyes a faraway look. Though when Benna spoke, her eyes were sharp as razors, focused on her face. The final question was both simple and difficult; "What were the names of your parents?"

"My mother's name was Bellaine, known as Belle. My father, I have no idea. We never spoke of him."

Leliana gave her a small smile. "My father was absent too. My mother was Oisine." She stood. "Thank you both for indulging me. I must admit, most of my fears are laid to rest. I apologise again for the offence I caused. If you'll excuse me." She gave a short bow and left, silent in her soft leather boots. Evelynne and Benna listened until they heard the door to the Chantry close behind the spymistress, then turned to look at each other.

"Do you think that helped?" Benna half-whispered. She hoped so; it had been mentally and emotionally draining to answer Leliana's questions, and she knew that Evelynne had been surprised by some of her answers. 

"I think so? I mean, she did say that her suspicions are gone."

"No, she didn't. She said 'most'. I hope she doesn't decide to question me again though; it's exhausting." They got up from the uncomfortable chairs and walked quietly towards the door, nodding to Mother Giselle in passing. "Do you trust her a little more now? I didn't get the impression that she was lying to me, and most of the facts we can check ourselves, especially since you're going to Val-Royeaux."

Evelynne wrinkled her nose in thought. "I... yes, I think I do. She was always evasive when I asked her questions before, so knowing a bit more about her does help. I still wouldn't tell her my deepest secrets, but I think I can trust her to guard my back in a fight." Benna was satisfied; all she had wanted was for her friend to be able to trust her inner circle enough to work with them. She hoped that this delicate trust wouldn't wither under the enormous pressure they were all under; mending the sky was no small task, and they would all be tested before the end.


	17. In Which Dawn Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER WARNING ***
> 
> This chapter contains scenes of domestic violence towards women. Read with caution.
> 
> If you are a victim of violence from anyone in your life, please get help. #MeToo #WeBelieveTheWomen

Strangely, the dates for Evelynne's departure and Benna's first day in her new role were the same. Benna wondered at the coincidence, but her head was so full of... everything. Horses and Evelynne and lessons with Josephine and Varric and the children and magic lessons and Lysette and, of course, more mundane details like meals for Hunter and stocks and customers and Philipa and staff members. She simply couldn't dedicate a lot of headroom to much else, let alone pondering the strangeness of two things coinciding. She wasn't spending much time on the shop floor this week; instead, Philipa and Mark had her working in the office on the floor above, supervising and teaching as she did the paperwork and made calls. She was grateful for their support, but having them there made her nervous. She often fluttered over unimportant things and babbled a bit when she was worried she was doing something wrong.

Hunter didn't help matters. A few times, when she told him about her training, he asked "Are you sure you can do this? You seem stressed out." Every time she reassured him, but every time a small piece of doubt wormed its way into her heart. She knew he was just concerned for her, but his questions weren't helping.

The day before The Big Day, as she had come to think of it, she had to stay late after her shift in order to finish up a project and have one last meeting with Mark and Philipa. She had let Hunter know, but they still ran longer than she had expected. She left the meeting glowing with their praise for how well she had adjusted to her new position and their reassurances that everything would be fine. The three of them stopped in at a local pub to have a drink to celebrate Mark's retirement; Benna had missed the party. She was so happy and hopeful about the future, she felt like she was lit up from the inside.

Hunter had made dinner for them, and, chattering happily about work and everything she had learned, she went to move past him to sit at the table. Her anecdote about Mark's funny story came to an abrupt halt when his hand suddenly snapped out and grabbed her arm. Belatedly, she noticed his dark mood. His brows were drawn down over his eyes, his mouth in a stony frown. As she fell silent, he glared down at her and asked, "Why were you so late?"

"I... I told you that I had to stay late for a meeting. You said it was ok!"

His vice grip on her bicep tightened. "Liar."

"Hunter, I'm not lying! We had to do the final handoff and finish up that makeup pitch."

"Then why," his voice lowered, "do you smell like alcohol?"

"Oh! Well..." He cut her off by shaking her, hard.

"I've been here, waiting for you for hours and, what you've been out drinking? I bet you never even had a meeting, you just wanted to go have a good time!" His gaze darkened further, and his voice dropped to an almost-whisper, almost-growl. "Who were you with?"

Benna had gone still, frozen in the face of his anger. When he shook her again, so hard she was afraid she would bite her tongue, she stammered out, "I was with Mark and Philipa! We went for a drink after the meeting, to..."

He cut her off again. "Liar! There's no way you'd go drinking with your _boss_. You're far too much of a rule follower for that." The more she protested, words flying out of her mouth as she desperately tried to assure him, the angrier he became. He finally let go of her to wave both hands in agitation, and Benna backed up against the fridge to stay out of range. Their voices rose, echoing around the kitchen, but he refused to listen. 

Eventually, she simply stopped responding and stared at the floor, waiting for his temper to run its course. So she was shocked when he slapped her across the face, hard enough to leave a red mark. She looked back up at him, her distress and fear sharpening into anger. Evelynne had tried to show her she was worth something; she was learning to fight to prevent this feeling of helplessness. 

"How dare you?!" She hissed, stepping towards him. Hunter looked momentarily surprised as she advanced, but he recovered immediately, the anger and jealousy taking hold again.

"If you stopped lying I wouldn't have had to do it! Just tell me who you were with all evening!"

"I've told you over and over! If you'd stop acting like a fucking idiot, you'd..." Benna was cut off as his hand lashed out again, this time curled into a fist. The punch rocked her head back, and the corner of the fridge met her skull with a horrible crunch. She had a glimpse of him turning away, before her eyes closed and that world faded from her mind.

\---------------------

She awoke in Haven and lay gasping, staring at the ceiling. The bastard had knocked her out! She carefully reached to touch the back of her head, expecting to feel blood or tenderness, but there was nothing. Maybe she had a different body here? Strange. 

Unable to stay still, she carefully extracted herself from Shae, who always seemed to end up curled beside her, and stood. Unwilling to stay in the cabin and probably wake the others, she slipped her feet into her boots and swung her cloak around her. She knew that her too-tight, borrowed nightdress wouldn't keep out the cold, but the urge to get out of the house was strong. 

Carefully closing the door behind her, she slipped through the empty streets and out of Haven, heading towards the bank of the lake where she could be alone. It was close to dawn, the eastern sky beyond the Breach beginning to lighten from black to deep purple. Benna stomped her way across the training ground, uncaring of the way her footsteps echoed off the walls. Her mind swirled with anger and fear and sadness... too many emotions to be healthy. 

She reached the less-travelled areas and welcomed the added exertion of pushing through the snow. She needed to burn off the excess energy; it might help calm her mind as well. She fought her way around the banks of the frozen lake and onto the rickety wooden dock. Her goal reached, she plopped down on the frozen boards and let the tears come. She wasn't even sure why she was crying, but once she started it proved impossible to stop. Again and again, she ran her fingers over her face and head, searching for the injuries she had heard but not yet felt. She felt somehow separate from herself; she had known that Hunter was capable of that level of anger, but he had never hit her before. Or was that quite true? There was the incident after their date...

She was staring up at the Breach as tears slid down her face, when a quiet cough had her leaping to her feet. Unfortunately, the cold and her uncomfortable position had put her legs to sleep, and she yelped as they refused to hold her weight. She grabbed for one of the posts, but stumbled as it moved under her weight. Only a hand around her waist stopped her from tumbling headfirst onto the ice six feet below. "Maker's breath! Are you alright?"

It was Cullen. Benna wanted to hide. The last thing she had wanted was anyone seeing her emotional breakdown. And she couldn't even explain! Her lessons with Josephine couldn't come fast enough. She regained her balance and Cullen let go instantly, as if he'd been burned. He finally got a look at her face, and his expression showed his surprise. "It's you! Are you alright? One of the men on duty said they'd seen someone down at the lake." Looking closer, he obviously saw the tear tracks on her face in the dim light of the Breach. "Have you been crying? I, I mean...." He sighed, one hand moving to the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." He turned and made to leave, but Benna reached out a hand to stop him. She didn't know why she wanted him to stay, but she had already given in to the impulse. She shuffled back a step as he turned back to her and saw the awareness in his face.

\----------------

Cullen was feeling off-balance. He'd been pulled from a vague nightmare by the sound of stomping feet going past his tent, and decided that investigating was better than trying to sleep and go back to that. He'd asked the man on duty who had gone past but had only received a "Dunno, Ser." accompanied by a yawn. So he'd followed the tracks down to the lake, only to discover that it was Benna, of all people. And she was crying. Cullen had very little experience with weeping women, and this one... He still hadn't decided how he felt about her. It was difficult to avoid thinking of his first Circle now he'd made the connection.

But she'd asked him to stay, despite being obviously wary. He looked down at her and sighed, unsure. "Are you alright?" he asked again, gently. She nodded, scrubbing at the tear tracks on her cheeks. He hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but eventually managed, "I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but I'm willing to listen... If you want?" He immediately cursed himself for his stupidity. How could she talk to him? She didn't even speak Common! He sighed, tipping his head back to look at the sky. He was so bad at people.

Benna didn't seem put off by his inability to understand. She burst into a torrent of Elven, her hands moving in fluid gestures as she spoke. He caught a word that sounded like a name; Hunter, but that was about it. She seemed angry though, and then suddenly turned away. Her voice lowered and she half whispered something. Turning back to him she threw a final burst at him, ending in a question. "I quite agree with you." He stated with a straight face. She looked at him blankly for a moment, before bursting into slightly hysterical giggles. Wrong answer then. "Can you try to explain in Common? I wish I spoke Elven so I could understand all that. You said, Hunter. Who is he?"

She glanced away. Her brow furrowed in concentration and when she spoke, it was in Common. "Husband... me." Cullen's eyebrows winged up until they almost touched his hairline. "Hunter is your husband? Where is he? Why aren't you with him?" A shake of the head. She gestured towards the distant mountains. "He's away? For how long?"

"Long time. Speak... sleep... dreams." Another shock. They spoke in dreams? Was she a dreamwalker then? Or perhaps this husband? He tried to pull himself together. He wasn't here to interrogate her. He tried to be gentle as he asked;

"So you talk to each other in dreams when he's away? I guess you spoke to him tonight. What happened to make you so upset?"

Slowly and carefully, she pieced the sentence together. "Hunter... _mien_... angry. I... Inquisition. He..." she trailed off, putting a hand to her face. The gesture was so obvious, even Cullen couldn't miss it.

"He hit you?" His voice was as cold as the lake. Benna flinched back from him, her hands moving to wrap around her waist. The Herald had been right; this is where Benna had learned to fear. Cullen knew he should try to be calmer, but the idea of anyone hurting someone under his protection... and he couldn't even do anything to stop it! The man was far away. Eventually, Benna glanced up at his angry face and nodded once. Her tears had returned. "Can you not avoid him in your dreams?" His voice was clipped, harsh. When she shook her head, he let out a great sigh and tried to relax. One of his hands cramped, and he realised he'd been clenching his fists. Rubbing it absently with his other hand, he looked back to Benna. "I am so sorry... that sounds trite, but it's all I have at the moment. The idea that he..." he trailed off in turn, shaking his head. "No one deserves to be treated that way." Her hopeless shrug in reply made him angry all over again. If that bastard ever appeared in Haven, he would be sorry.

With no more words, the two of them stood in silence, watching the sun rise through the Breach. It wasn't until Benna started to shiver that Cullen realised that she was only wearing a nightdress under her cloak. And a very ill-fitting one at that. He looked away, but not before noticing that she was very... well formed. He shrugged his cloak off and draped it around her, receiving a distracted smile in thanks. His was too big for her, and she was able to wrap it around herself completely, turning her into a cone of leather and fur. He smiled back, and they watched as the light of the sun was fractured and split into twisted rainbows that danced across the lake with the churning of the Breach. 

As the sun crested the horizon, Benna finally turned to him. " _Ma melava halani_ , Cullen." she said, giving him a peculiar bow. He understood enough to know that she was thanking him, and bowed back. 

"It was my pleasure, my Lady. Shall we return? I'm sure your little fennecs will be awake soon and demanding breakfast." She managed to grin at him in reply, and he placed a hand on her back, guiding her around the edges of the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there...
> 
> Elven
> 
> Mein - Rage, anger
> 
> Ma melava halani - An elvish idiom essentially meaning, “You have spent your time to help me.” Archaic and intimate.


	18. In Which Evelynne Decides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments - I love waking up to the emails.
> 
> And your speculation is all very interesting; hopefully, I'll be able to answer all your questions in time...
> 
> Much loves  
> XxX

Evelynne woke up as Benna came in. She frowned as she watched her friend remove her cloak and boots, a small basket in her hand. "Where did you go?" She asked, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the children.

Benna startled and looked over. "Oh, I just went to get some eggs for breakfast. I wanted you to have one last good meal before you leave. I remember all those nights of King's Mercy!" Evelynne laughed quietly and stretched her arms above her head. She had forgotten about her trip to Val-Royeaux, and her frown returned as she began to worry again that something would happen to Benna while she was away. She remained lost in thought as she went through the motions of getting up and dressed, choosing her hardier leathers and the cotton undershirt for her armour, instead of the much more comfortable outfits she typically chose. She would put on the rest of her armour just before they left; no matter how padded it was, no cuirass was truly comfortable.

The children woke ravenous as Benna scrambled eggs and fried strips of ram over their fire, and Evelynne only managed to get them washed and brushed by threatening to dump them in a snowdrift. It was an often-repeated threat, one that no one took seriously anymore, least of all the children, but it got them to behave long enough for breakfast to be ready. 

She had one final meeting with her advisors before she left; confirming her route through the mountains and hearing the lastest scout reports. Since it was summer, the passes weren't too bad, but she dreaded trying to travel in the depths of winter; she got the feeling that Haven would be completely snowed in. 

"Please do keep us informed, Herald." Leliana murmured as they finished. Out of her sight line, Evelynne rolled her eyes. Of course she was going to. What, they thought she would magically know what to do with human politics? She had never had any patience for Dalish ones - that's why she had become a hunter. Regardless, she murmured back "Of course," and left to finish packing with a short bow to the room in general.

She was hunting for her comb (and several other things) when Solas knocked on their door. "I just wanted to give Benna her outline for study while we are away." Evelynne gestured him inside with a distracted wave, half buried in one of the chests against the wall. The children were absorbed in some sort of counting game, and barely looked up, but Benna set aside the sewing she had started, despite Evelynne's protests. Solas handed her a sheaf of papers. "Here I have given you a basic outline of what you can study safely, along with some general instructions. As with all magic, you will have to discover for yourself how to create these effects, but I can give you an idea. I would recommend you have someone to watch you while you practice, just in case something goes wrong." As Benna murmured an acknowledgement, Evelynne was distracted by her discovery of a small clock buried in the bottom of the chest. What in Dirthamen's name was that doing in there?

Giving up, she turned to the others. "Have you seen my comb? Or my writing kit? Or my whetstone?" The children looked a little guilty, but shook their heads. Solas raised an eyebrow, faintly amused. Benna laughed and stood. In quick succession, she handed Evelynne her comb and whetstone, apparently from thin air, and turned to the children. "Where did you leave the writing kit?" Even though she spoke Elven, they obviously understood. Shae coloured.

"We left it in the tavern, Evelynne. Sorry we'll go get it right now!" Both children scrambled into their boots and coats and rushed out of the door. Solas followed them with a nod to the two women, presumably to pack for himself. Or try to turn himself into a tree. Who knew?

"Are you _sure_ you'll be alright without me?" Evelynne asked anxiously. She hadn't been able to forget her worries about what Leliana might do. Benna sighed gently and smiled.

"We'll be fine! If you like, I'll write you a note every day! They won't be very interesting though."

"No, that's alright. Maybe once a week? I'll probably be gone..."

"At least a month, I know! You keep telling me. But, Evvy, you can't let your worry for us distract you; you have a job to do."

Evelynne sighed. "I know, I just worry." Evvy? No one had shortened her name before. She quite liked it. Her clan would probably disapprove though; a pet name given by a human. Even if Benna was the most Elven human ever. Throwing the last few items into her pack, she started to strap herself into her armour. 

"I'll go down to the stables and make sure that Sal is ready to go. And probably apologise to Nunis - she'll be upset that we're not going with you. Bring the children when they get back?" Benna stepped into her own boots and out of the door with a swirl of her cape, leaving Evelynne alone with her worries. She glanced around the small house a final time, taking in the changes that had occurred since Benna and the children joined her. The walls were covered with the children's drawings, a set of pots and pans had been hung over the fireplace and the bookshelves were decorated with shiny rocks, sticks and other things the children had discovered in and around Haven. The little cabin felt much more like a home now, even if it didn't have wheels. 

And it was up to her to protect it. Even if that meant politicking with _shemlen_ or fighting rogue Templars. Suddenly filled with determination, Evelynne cinched her breastplate tight and strapped on her weapons. And besides, she was sure she could find them all presents from Val-Royeaux. That brought a smile to her face. She grabbed her pack and strode off to the stables, sweeping the returning children along with her.

\---------------------

Cullen stood awkwardly outside the stable block. If he was honest with himself, he was avoiding Benna. He'd seen her walking across the training grounds, and now the silence of dawn had passed he wasn't sure what to say to her. Should he acknowledge that he'd seen her crying? Would she want to talk about it? Should he pretend it had never happened? He shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

The arrival of the Herald and the children provided a welcome distraction. The children swirled past him into the stables, Mal calling a greeting. Cullen smiled and raised a hand as they ran past, before turning to greet the Herald.

"Cullen," she nodded with a smile. "Was there anything else?"

"Oh! No, my Lady. I merely wished to bid you farewell."

She looked surprised. "Thank you. I hope I'll be able to convince the Chantry to help us..."

He caught her eyes. "Even if you don't, the fact that you've tried will cause some to doubt. And that will help our cause as well. Just... don't listen to Cassandra too much."

That startled a laugh out of her, and her eyes slid over to where the Seeker was checking over her piebald monster. The laughter died as she looked over at Benna and the children, chattering like sparrows. "I worry about them... I'm afraid I don't trust Leliana to leave them be while I'm away." Her eyes snapped back to his, sparkling with the mischevious grin that had spread across her face. Cullen was surprised; she had never given him such a genuine smile before. "I've just had the most marvellous idea! You still have your Templar abilities, don't you?"

Caught off guard by the sudden change in topic, Cullen stuttered, "Well, yes I do, but.."

She interrupted him, "Good! Solas said that Benna should have someone to watch her while she trains just in case, and maybe you can do it? That way she won't be in any danger and you can tell Leliana you're keeping an eye on her and everyone will be happy! Thank you, Cullen!"

Not leaving him any time to respond, or object, she skipped past him and into the stables, presumably to tell Benna what she had decided. Cullen was left feeling like he'd just come through a windstorm. What was he going to do now? 


	19. In Which Tea is Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling inspired, so have two updates in two days!

A very awkward conversation followed. After tentatively agreeing that it wasn't a _terrible_ idea for Cullen to help with her training, they compared schedules. Benna had her responsibilities to the children, and her coming lessons, mornings with Josephine, afternoons with Lysette, ate up most of the day. The children were due to begin schooling with the Chantry Sisters who ran a school of sorts each morning, and their afternoons were to be taken with some official duties. They would work as runners or aids or help specific Inquisition members for part of the afternoons; everyone earned their keep at Haven.

Cullen was constantly busy with the demands of the army and his duties as an advisor, including the morning drills. All of this meant that the only time they could meet for Benna's magical training was in the evenings, after the children were in bed for the night. They were to start that day, so when they reported to the Herald, she would be satisfied that they had bowed to her will.

Charming as Evelynne was, Benna couldn't help but feel a bit manipulated by her friend. She had confessed that Cullen scared her, and yet Evelynne had pushed them together anyway. Well, it was more of a shove, really. And she had the suspicion that her friend had mistaken Benna's fascination with the soldiers the day they'd built her staff with a crush on Cullen. It was enough to make her cheeks flush with embarrassment, especially after her confession to him that morning. As she left him by the stables, face flushed hot, she didn't notice that Cullen's ears were just as red. 

Her afternoon was taken up with a ride with the children. Partly to apologise to Nunis for not taking her on the adventures she was sure the mare was longing for, and partly to spend time with the children and teach them more about riding. She was also able, eventually, to explain about their new schedule. She was glad they didn't have an audience then; there were many mistranslations, since Mal and Shae didn't really speak Elven, and once they did understand there was much objecting and whining from them both; Shae just wanted to spend all her time in the stables, and Mal couldn't or wouldn't understand why they'd need schooling at all. Both knew enough Elven to tell her, adamantly, " _Telnuvenan_!" - I don't want to. Still, she overruled them, and they agreed to try it, if a bit sulkily.

That soon vanished, however, when she taught them how to jump their horses.

\------

She arrived at the training grounds that evening with her still-unbladed staff, the book that Solas had apparently written, and a frown. She waited outside for Cullen for a good half an hour, waving off repeated offers of help from scouts, soldiers and general busybodies alike, before she finally lost patience and went to drag him out of his tent.

Knocking on one of the tent poles, she waited until he yelled "Enter!" before she poked her head through the flap. There he was, still in full armour. He hadn't been lying about the paperwork; it looked as if he was sitting in a snowdrift. And apparently, it was fascinating, since he still hadn't looked up. "Cullen," She winced internally; her voice had a bit of a bite to it, and she doubted he'd react well to that. 

He startled and looked up at her, coming to his feet in a jangle of metal. "Oh! Lady Benna! I'm sorry; is it time already?" She nodded with a bit of a frown and waved her papers at him, inviting him to join her outside. "Is that your training outline? Would you mind if I read it? Then I at least know what it should look like." Not an unreasonable request, so she nodded and entered the tent, making sure the flap was closed behind her to keep in the meagre heat provided by a hugely-unsafe brazier. Honestly, what was he thinking? To have open flame near so much paper? It would be a miracle if he didn't burn to a crisp one day.

Oblivious to her silent scolding, Cullen took the first few papers from her and read them over quickly. Glancing up at her, he raised an eyebrow. "While I can't claim to understand most of this, the general idea seems to be... creating a barrier, correct? And holding it while attacking?" She nodded, pleased that he was at least trying. "Do you know how to create a barrier already?" She shook her head and gestured to the papers, meaning that Solas wanted her to try and learn that first.

"Well, why don't we stay in here to try that? A barrier is unlikely to hurt anything, and you're already chilled." Benna frowned, unhappy with the idea, especially since this was his personal space, but he insisted. "You're still shivering, and I think your lips are turning blue. There's no real reason for us to stand in the cold. I'll... find you somewhere to sit and we'll go outside when you start throwing things." He stepped sideways and held his arm out in a gesture of invitation. Benna considered. He made a lot of sense. And she knew he was right about her being cold. She suddenly noticed that he seemed pale; perhaps _he_ was cold and didn't want to admit it?

She sighed and acquiesced, stepping past him and approaching the desk. She stopped and stared in bewilderment at the teetering piles; how could anyone move in here without being buried under reams of paper? Cullen stuttered and stammered out apologies and half-formed excuses while he cleared off a small fraction of the table and waved her into the seat he had just vacated. "I'm sure there was a stool in here somewhere..." he muttered, glancing around, before obviously giving up before he even started. Instead, he moved to the back of the tent and took a seat on his low bed, forcing her to half-turn to keep him in sight. "Sorry, I just don't have the patience to start moving things. Would you like some tea?" At her automatic look of disgust, he grinned. "Commander gets real tea, not that tree bark stuff. I told them it's to keep me awake to do the paperwork." Benna was silent for a minute, studying his face. For a moment, the soldier mask had fallen away, and a boy had smiled at her. The scar on his lip caused his grin to pull slightly on one side, giving his face a mischevious charm, and his eyes twinkled, inviting her into his private dastardly scheme. He was stunning.

Just as his smile started to falter, she gave him a small grin of her own. "As long as it's _real_ tea; you'd better not be tricking me." The general gist obviously got through, and he put his hand over his heart.

"On my honour, it's actual tea. Give me a minute and I'll make us some." Collecting the essentials from the top of a chest at the foot of his bed, he edged past the desk again, catching a few papers he knocked off and replacing them in completely the wrong piles. Benna suppressed a chuckle and moved them back once he turned away. Or at least, she hoped she'd put them in the right place. Honestly, who knew? 

As Cullen prepared the tea, a comfortable silence fell. Benna turned back to her training notes and reread the instructions for forming a barrier. From what Solas seemed to be saying, it was a lot like the first thing she had learned. Only instead of drawing light, she had to imagine her skin was solid. And she had to do it all over, instead of just a hand. Once she could do that, she could work on expanding the barrier into a globe or casting it on other people. 

She glanced up and murmured, "' _Ma serannas,_ " when Cullen placed a mug on the table in front of her. Picking it up, she took a cautious sniff. It smelled just like real tea. Looking over at him, she caught the slight crinkling of his eyes as he hid a smile in his own mug; he obviously found her lack of trust entertaining. She took a sip and hummed in satisfaction; tea was a necessity. "Better than tree bark?" Cullen asked with a smirk. Laughing quietly, she nodded and wrapped her still chilly fingers around the drink, leaning back in the chair to enjoy it. 

As Cullen moved to sit back on the cot, she tried to explain what she was going to try. He flinched a little as she brought light to her hand to demonstrate, but relaxed immediately. He was even able to offer some suggestions that might help, and she set the mug aside to get started. 

The evening wore on as she tried again and again to build a barrier, but it always sputtered and failed before it was fully formed. She tried sitting, standing, with her eyes open and closed, before shoving the notes at Cullen and sitting beside him with a huff. She was angry with herself; a barrier was one of the easiest spells a mage could learn, and she was failing to create even a weak one.

Instead of trying to calm or console her, which would only have made her more annoyed, Cullen reread the notes and finally offered a suggestion. "Perhaps you're trying to make it too large straight away? When you're learning anything, you start small and work up. Maybe if you try just making one around your hand?" He had relaxed as time went on; he didn't flinch at all now when she flickered with light. She huffed again, out of patience with all of it, but did as he suggested. Holding her right hand out in front of her, she imagined her skin becoming hard as steel, and pulled on her magic. Her surprise was total when a tiny barrier popped into life, shimmering in shades of blue over her palm. She looked up at Cullen in excitement and delight and saw the pride in his eyes. "Can you do as far as your elbow?" He murmured, apparently not wanting to break her concentration. It took her a few tries, but she was eventually able to expand her barrier to include her whole arm and half her chest, before it flickered out.

She slumped backwards, suddenly feeling exhausted. Supporting herself on her hands, she looked up at his face, and saw the realisation. "I'd forgotten that you're a new mage. You've expended too much magic at once; that's why you're so tired. I apologise, I should have been monitoring you more closely." With a touch of sadness, she saw he'd reverted to Commander. His mask of formality was so similar to Evelynne's, she wanted to laugh. And did. 

Horrified by the inappropriate giggles she was unable to stop, she slapped one hand over her mouth and promptly collapsed onto her back, all her strength gone. The Commander vanished and Cullen was back, looking down at her in concern. His pretty face disappeared for a moment, and she blinked sleepily at the tent's canvas roof, the occasional giggle still escaping. He reappeared, holding something dark in his fingers. "Open your mouth," he requested, and placed a... leaf? on her tongue. "Chew that for a minute; it will help you feel better." Obediently, she chewed, pulling a face at the bitter flavour. 

She felt him sit beside her on the cot, and one of her hands caught at his arm. Under the strange euphoria, she was frightened; she had never felt quite so punch-drunk as this before. Another giggle. _Punch-drunk. Wonder if I'll feel like this later not dealt with that yet ouch that's going to hurt..._

After a minute or so, Cullen pulled her back into a sitting position and offered her some water to wash down the bitterness. "Better?" he asked quietly. Her mind and body more under control, Benna nodded and gave him an embarrassed smile. 

"Sorry," she said in Common.

"Don't be sorry; that's why you're practising with someone to monitor you. Though I'm afraid I wasn't doing as good a job as I should have. I'll do better tomorrow." Hoping to reassure him, she patted his arm.

"Both,"

"We'll both do better, or we're both to blame? Perhaps, but I know what my duties are in this situation; I was trained for it. But it's getting late. Do you need help returning?" Unsure, she tried standing up. Okay, she wobbled a bit, but she was soon vertical. His hand hovered, ready to catch her if she fell, and that small gesture made her feel a bit... she wasn't sure, but it probably wasn't a good idea. 

"No help. _'Ma Serannas_. Tomorrow?" 

He nodded, and stood to escort her to the 'door'. "I'll see you tomorrow, my Lady. Rest well." She snorted and gave him an incredulous look, watching as his face darkened with remembrance of what awaited in her 'dreams'. She wished she hadn't reminded him; Hunter felt far away right now. Benna gave him an awkward smile and a little bow. " _On nydha_ , Cullen."

"Good night," he returned with a small smile. She waved and turned to walk away. She felt him watching her all the way to Haven's gates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OH was disappointed there was no fire in the tent. But I think she's been traumatised enough for one day...
> 
>  
> 
> Elven
> 
> Telnuvenan - I don't want to
> 
> 'Ma serannas - Thank you
> 
> On nydha - Goodnight


	20. In Which Progress Is Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments :) It's wonderful to hear that you like Benna and her story. I love her too; she's trying so hard! 
> 
> Xx

She awoke at home, but refused to move for a while; she had no desire to feel the pain she knew was lurking in the back of her mind, just waiting to clamp its teeth into her skull. Instead, she focused on cataloguing the differences between Haven and here. First, sound. Haven always had some noise going on, even at night. The distant ring of metal on metal from the blacksmiths, or the whinny of a horse or grunt of a druffalo. If it was daytime, the mountain village was filled end to end with the low murmur of hundreds of people at work. Talk and laughter and the clang of sword on armour from the soldiers, the hiss of the fires and tromping of footsteps. All echoing back from the snowy mountains that held the little valley. During Chantry services, everyone not attending would still be able to hear the voices of those singing inside, and pause in their work to join in. The harmonies would bounce back at different speeds and pitches, creating a glorious cacophony that seemed as if it would shake the stars themselves. And, of course, the children were never silent, even in sleep. Here, there was the distant sound of traffic on the street and the wail of seagulls. Oddly, she missed the never-ending din of Haven; it folded you into itself and made you a part of it, until it became comfortable, like a blanket.

Scent. Home smelled like home. Cleaning products, last night's cooking and the smell of two people living together. Haven smelled of woodsmoke and roasted ram and snow. The place was simply more alive than home. Sometimes she wished she didn't have to come back here; that Haven could become that for her. 

She sighed and immediately regretted it. Just the slight opening of her mouth had awoken the monster, and the whole left side of her face burned. Her hands flew to her cheek and she breathed in short pants, trying to work through the pain. Very, very gently exploring the area with her fingertips, she found no blood and probably no broken bones, but her cheek and left eye were both puffy and very painful. She made to sit up and almost fainted; she had forgotten that she had also hit the back of her head, and the injury made itself known with bright sharp pain, throbbing as a counterpoint to the dull seeping pain from her face. Her head felt like it would split in two.

She dizzily pushed herself upright and sat for a moment, breathing heavily. Her head spun and throbbed, and she had to close her eyes against the light that stabbed her in the brain. She wanted to rest her face in her hands, but could only manage one side as she fought for her composure... and lost. Somehow, she managed to reach the bathroom before she threw up, but it was a near thing. And every heave made her head hurt worse until tears were pouring down her face as she threw up bile again and again. She distantly remembered that she'd only had water since lunchtime yesterday... probably yesterday. Hunter wouldn't have left her for a whole day, surely?

It wasn't until she had staggered to her feet and very carefully rinsed her mouth that she remembered work. She was supposed to be starting in her new role today. One glance in the mirror over the sink told her that it just wasn't possible; her eye was red and swollen and promised to blossom into a spectacular sunrise in the next day or so. And the knot on the back of her head... she would have to call in sick and hope Philipa would be understanding. She briefly considered going to the hospital but dismissed the idea. What would she tell them? That she fell down the stairs? No thanks.

Philipa was understanding, especially when she heard how raspy Benna's voice was. She made her promise to drink lots of water and try to sleep. Benna, willpower simply gone from the twin pains, agreed to everything in order to get off the phone faster. It wasn't until she'd put her phone down that she realised that she had woken on the sofa. Hunter must have moved her from the kitchen. She wrestled with that. Was that because he was sorry? Because he felt guilty? Or for some other reason? He hadn't changed her clothes or anything...

Her head hurt far too much for this. Forcing down some bread, she took as many painkillers as she safely could and crawled into bed. She made the room as dark as possible and closed the window and door. She probably had a concussion. Were you supposed to not sleep with a concussion? Or was that wrong? Maybe it was that you had to wake up? She spent some time squinting at her phone. Okay. Wake up every two hours to make sure she hadn't... died? Whatever. She set an alarm and dozed for the remainder of the day, hoping that she would be able to function tomorrow. She had to be at work; any longer required a doctor's note.

In one of her waking moments, she remembered Hunter. Unsure of... literally everything, she ordered food to be delivered for his dinner, since she was incapable of doing anything. She didn't know what to do about him hitting her. Somewhere inside, she was angry. Probably. The rest of her was weary and confused. He had never hit her before, or even threatened to. Perhaps it was her fault. She had called him a 'fucking idiot' while they were arguing. Perhaps his anger had got the better of him. He probably hadn't meant to hit her...

She was hurting too much to think any more. She hoped she'd find time in Haven to think about it. But she was so busy there...

\---------------------

Her time in Haven only got busier. Her lessons with Josephine were... interesting. She would carefully read out a letter, with the Ambassador gently correcting her pronunciation, and then they would discuss possible responses. True to her suspicions, she was never allowed near anything sensitive; every letter was probably carefully vetted before she was allowed to see it. She could tell that she surprised the Antivan with some of her suggestions, and Josephine did adopt a few of them, even asking Benna to write their reply. Her Common improved dramatically; probably Evelynne had been helping her too much, which meant that Benna honestly hadn't tried too hard to learn. Soon she was able to string together full sentences, not just individual words, and the language started to separate itself from Elven in her mind. It would probably never feel as natural as speaking Elven would, but she could get by.

Minaeve was often present during her morning lessons, and after a week or so of small talks during breaks or before Benna had to rush off to meet the children, she invited the three of them to eat with the other mages. Benna readily agreed, and the two women collected Mal and Shae from a harried-looking Chantry Sister and strolled through Haven. It turned out that the mages had been housed in the northernmost corner, near Solas' cabin and the apothecary. They had several cabins reserved for them; one they used for research and growing plants, one they all slept in, and one they had turned into a slightly crowded living space. This made everything a bit cramped, especially since there were several 'magelings' among them, but it didn't seem to occur to them to use the research house for other things.

Mal and Shae made instant friends with the younger apprentices, chattering like magpies in the corner of the room, and Benna was introduced in a flurry of names she had almost no hope of remembering. A few mages stood out; a haughty man named Elsin, who sniffed down his long nose at her. An Elven man whose face was clear of tattoos but had a deep scar running from his forehead and over one eye and cheek. His name was Samae. And a woman with striking black hair and blue eyes, who introduced herself as 'Mia', but hardly spoke after that. 

The meal was pleasant, and all the mages were interested to meet her. She could feel them evaluating her magic, and they dissolved into a friendly argument about whether or not her magic had something to do with her language. Benna felt accepted, for the first time since Evelynne had left. All too soon, everyone had to return to their duties, but Benna and the children were invited back any time they pleased.

Her lessons with Lysette went less well. Benna simply did not have the physical conditioning or endurance that she needed. She was able to master the stances and even several lunges and blocks, but it never took long before her muscles began to weaken with fatigue, and she would begin to make mistakes. Her practice spear would drop to the floor over and over, and she would collect new bruises as her fingers got hit or Lysette prodded her with her own spear to show Benna where her guard had dropped. Benna liked Lysette personally, but she called her every awful name under the sun during those lessons. Silently, of course. She didn't want a repeat of the incident with Hunter. 

The children had their work assignments while she practised with Lysette. Shae, at her very insistent request, was placed in the stables. She insisted on showing Benna how she had trained each horse to stand beside the mounting block so that the little girl could reach to brush them. Benna was amazed that every horse obeyed Shae without a murmur, even the ever-restless Nunis. Mal was assigned as a runner to the Quartermaster. He would be seen dashing back and forth, delivering messages and packets of herbs. The activity was good for him; he would eat like a wolf cub every evening and fall asleep immediately. His hand was healing nicely, mostly thanks to Benna cleaning and wrapping it almost religiously every morning and evening. He had quickly learned to do most things with his left hand; the injury hadn't slowed him down for long.

Benna was a little worried about their emotional state; they rarely spoke of their home before joining the Inquisition, and she suspected that they hadn't dealt with the fact that their parents had likely not survived. The fact that Shae always ended up in Benna's cot, or that she had heard Mal crying in his sleep, only increased her concern. But she refused to push; she wasn't their mother, and perhaps they would do better dealing with it between themselves. 

Late afternoons were taken up with riding, or playing in the snow, or with the mages, often joined by some of the other children in Haven. Samae joked that Benna had become the adopted aunt of Haven; she was never without an extra child or two. She didn't mind. 

Her lessons with Cullen were also going well; she had mastered the creation of a barrier, and was able to cast it on him as well. Cullen came out more and more when they were alone; her growing skill with Common meant that they could communicate better, and he relaxed as she was able to tell him her thoughts and they grew more comfortable around each other. He was careful to monitor her magic better than the first evening, and he told her more about the Templars and their abilities. They tested her concentration and the barriers endurance with snowballs; he would have her stand still as he threw them at her from various angles, and when her barrier faded in a flash of blue flame, they would reverse. There were moments of humour; she hit him in the face with a snowball once, to her mortification. He spluttered and brushed the worst of it away, before giving her a look as if to say, _you'll pay for that_. She saw the hidden laughter in his eyes though, and managed to smile back through her blushes.

She graduated to casting fireballs at barriered snowmen. Soon the clearing they had chosen to practice in looked like a battlefield; half melted and smashed snowmen littered the area. She privately named them all, and Cullen caught her saluting the fallen warriors. After a moment of mystification, he solemnly bowed to the remains, quirking an eyebrow at her when she tried to stifle a laugh. It was a relief to know that the spark of humour she'd seen wasn't a fluke.

More good things; her staff blade was added and her new clothes were delivered a few days after Evelynne left. It was such a relief to have clothes that actually fit. She received two sets of training clothes, which consisted of supple leather leggings, a padded tunic, a knee-length belted jacket and a pair of boots that rose to mid-calf. There were also two 'off duty' outfits, which were thick woollen tights and a tunic that fell to mid-thigh. Evelynne had been sneaky; the tailors had also made Benna two plain nightdresses, underthings, a long, quilted coat, a set of fur-lined mage robes, similar to those Minaeve wore, and a very pretty dress in navy blue with white and yellow embroidery along the cuffs and hem. When she saw what her friend had done, Benna smiled, sighed and sat down to write a note to her friend, thanking and scolding her; she really didn't need the extra clothes, but was grateful nonetheless. The ill-fitting green dress she sent to the tailors, to be reused or given to someone else.

True to her word, she sent a note to Evelynne every week. She kept the details vague, but assured her friend that she barely saw the spymistress and that they were all fine. She told Evelynne about her training and the children's lessons, as well as small details of her life in Haven. Evelynne would reply with complaints about their journey and her companions, speculation as to what Val-Royeaux would be like, and suggestions for Benna's training. Varric and Solas each sent her a short note, the former asking how her language was coming along, the latter to inquire about her magical training. She replied with short notes of her own, hoping to surprise both of them when they returned. 

Honestly, all this acceptance felt strange. She had always been an outsider; someone who came through and stayed only a few months, whose experiences were so totally unlike other people's that they found it hard to relate to her. She was so used to being kept at arm's length that she developed a wariness of her own. If she didn't reach out, they couldn't reject her. None of it seemed to matter to the people of Haven; she was just Benna, mage and adoptive mother to two mischevious children. She found it difficult to deal with, sometimes, and she felt herself pushing people away as often as she tried to open up and make friends.

Her home life was less fulfilling. Again, Hunter made no mention of what had happened, leaving Benna to stew in her doubt and uncertainty. It was several days before she stopped feeling dizzy, but she forced herself into work anyway, layers of makeup covering her black eye. She could feel Philpa and her team's concern, but she made it clear that she didn't want to discuss it. Other than that, her first week went well, and she found that she truly enjoyed her new role. 

She also played a little more _Inquisition_ , watching in confusion as the situation in Val-Royeaux dissolved to a mess of competing egos and shouting. She tried to feel sympathy for Mother Hevara, but the woman's grandstanding and willful blindness to the real dangers left her cold. She hoped that Evelynne wouldn't feel too upset that she wasn't able to solve any of their problems. 

The scene in Val-Royeaux left her with the knowledge that she actually had no idea about the various factions in Thedas. She understood what mages were well enough, but why had they rebelled? What did the Templars have to do with it? And why would they follow a Lord Seeker? Researching the answers, she only felt sad and confused. It was all tangled up together. She could sympathise with the mages; being condemned to what was essentially prison for life just because you happened to be born with magic was a horrifying idea, let alone being subject to some of the atrocities she had read about; rape was the least of it. But from what Cullen had said about the Templars, their purpose was to keep mages and the general populous safe from the dangers of magic. That sounded like a good thing. And the fact that the Chantry was the organisation that took control of all their lives? It troubled Benna's secular heart, the idea of a religion being granted the power of life and death over thousands of people, and was apparently more powerful than the various rulers of the countries. Why else would they defer to the Divine, instead of solving the problem themselves?

She didn't know what to make of it all, and it troubled her. Being a mage herself, she had been planted firmly on the side of the mages, whether she liked it or not. But there were Circles within circles. Some mages professed loyalty to the Chantry and their control, while others demanded freedom. Who was right? What was true? What was safe? Surely not all mages were a danger, but from what she had overheard, the apostates in the Hinterlands had acted just like their abusers, burning and killing however they pleased. Yet the supposedly-disciplined Templars had been no better, taking off into the wilderness to do the same, apparently on a whim. The mages, at least, had legitimate grievances, but she hadn't seen anything like a real reason for the Templars' madness.

And the Chantry, for all it's claims to be for peace and encouraging obedience to the Maker, had condoned the Circles and all their brutality, by its silence if nothing else. How could a religion that encouraged its soldiers to consider mages less than human be a unifying force across Thedas? Although there were several parallels to draw between the Andrastian Chantry and Christianity as a whole, their current messages were very different. The Chantry seemed to be closer to Christianity in the time of the Crusades. No, she decided firmly, she would have as little to do with that institution as she possibly could. Even if her best friend had apparently been named for their prophet.

At least the Inquisition was trying to do something about it all; they had been pacifying the regions around Haven and slowly expanding their reach as Evelynne closed rifts. The fighting in the Hinterlands had apparently died down now that the Herald had cleared the camps of the two factions. It made her sad all over again; Evelynne was such a warm and caring person, yet she had been forced to kill people for the greater good. A much more difficult prospect than killing demons. Benna worried about what that would do to her spirit, long term. And still, the Inquisition had come too late for so many. From the people in Kirkwall and the White Spire, all the way down to the children's parents, killed in the Hinterlands for no reason at all. 

Still utterly confused about it all, she did her best to profess no loyalties or preferences for either side. She knew that even in Haven, tensions occasionally ran high between the members of each faction, with the Chantry members most often doing nothing or even egging on one side or another. She had overheard a lot of muttered threats and anger; people seemed to assume that since she didn't speak Common, she couldn't understand it either, so it was apparently safe to ignore her as she walked past. Still, she made a mental note to try and remember the worst ones; if something awful happened, Evelynne or Cullen would be the ones to deal with it, and she didn't want that for either of her new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Montage montage montage chapter!
> 
> Moving right along now.


	21. In Which A Barrier is Cast, And Crumbles

Shortly after Evelynne's report that she was leaving Val-Royeaux arrived, an issue came up. Benna knew in her gut that this was just the beginning, and it would never go away entirely. The mages had been discussing amongst themselves the issues within Haven. Circles within Circles were here too. The social hierarchy of the Inquisition matched that of Thedas in general, putting mages at the very bottom, only just above elves. Or possibly the fact that their Herald was a Dalish elf had elevated the de facto serving class. This meant that all the mages were extremely insecure about their place within the Inquisition, and they all tried to promote themselves as useful and necessary. "Flissa said she couldn't do without me!" gushed one woman. 

"The Lady Josephine thanked me for our help with the noble group." 

"Harritt wanted our help with forging the Commander a new sword,"

"Capitan Rylen suggested we attend morning drills to deal with any injuries."

"But do we want to be seen as the soldiers' lackeys?"

"Don't you want to help? Most of them aren't Templars, you know."

And on and on. Every task and decision was debated with the entire group. Elsin was proud, a respected researcher but a fairly weak mage. He most often spoke up in debates, and some listened. He rejected any suggestion that the mages perform 'servants work', which included the creation of self-heating washtubs, hunting, cleaning of any sort and helping in the cooks' tent. He insisted that mages should maintain their own dignity; they were some of the best-educated people in Thedas. Scribing for the Lady Josephine, healing and alchemy were all acceptable, according to Elsin, but many other things were not.

Other voices often overruled him, however. Most of the group were part of the Inquisition by default; they had been left behind in Haven for the Conclave and had nowhere else to go. Others were there by deliberate choice, having come from the Hinterlands or even further afield. They were more likely to help out around the village. Those mages who had come for the Conclave looked down on those who had not, seeing them as rebellious and potentially dangerous apostates. They were in turn considered to be Templar toadies, unable to think for themselves. Tensions often ran high. 

Since Benna refused to enter into this form of office politics, she was often asked to break a deadlock in opinion. She was considered generally neutral, and she was respected as the friend of the Herald; no other mage had any kind of voice with the Inquisition's leaders. She tried to be fair and listen to both sides of the argument, but she most often advocated for the mages to make themselves useful to the Inquisition. Otherwise, why would the advisors want them to stay? She wasn't entirely comfortable with this role but found it thrust upon her anyway. 

As they got to know her better, she was also asked to bring certain things to Evelynne. "I'm sure the Herald knows nothing of this injustice!" Elsin would say. "Be sure and bring it to her attention, I am certain she will set it right immediately." Privately, Benna doubted that Evelynne would care who healed the soldiers, or whether it was a mage who took notes at Josephine's meetings, but she smiled and agreed anyway.

Lysette noticed this too. "Be careful," she warned one day as they sparred. Two of Benna's mage friends, Samae and Heather, stood to the side of the training grounds, ostensibly to heal any injuries. But they had waved to Benna and invited her to join them when she finished. She was tired and sweaty, struggling to block Lysette's blows, but she managed to pant out, "Why?" as she dodged a swing at her head. 

"Because," Lysette replied, sounding as if they were merely strolling through the village. "They will try to use you. Not just the mages," She added when Benna frowned. "Everyone will use you, if you let them. You are close to the Herald, and you appear friendly with our Commander. You are an outsider to every group, and many will consider you easily manipulated. Be cautious with how much you trust anyone."

Benna frowned at that cynical evaluation but nodded. She knew Lysette was right. She knew enough about politics to know that the people close to those in power were always sought after. Everyone had their own agenda, and the best way to further it was to gain the favour of those at the top. And the mages were amongst the lowest; having someone who was sympathetic to them must seem like a gift. She resolved to think carefully about any requests the mages made concerning Evelynne or policy in general. 

Then again, she was also friendly with the soldiers and former Templars, including Lysette. Having the support of a mage in their own politics would be a boon to them as well. She sighed inwardly, already tired of the games, but unable to do anything about it. At least there were a few people she could trust.

The news that Evelynne had recruited Madame Vivienne de Fer to join the Inquisition kicked the hornet's nest. Madame de Fer was an outspoken Orlesian mage, First Enchanter and a member of the Imperial Court. A very important person. But she was a fierce loyalist, openly supporting the Circles and disdaining all thoughts of mage independence. This news further split the already fractured group. Some were pleased that they would have the support of a mage with so much influence; she would be able to act as a voice in the halls of power. Others were disgusted, considering Madame a traitor to all mages. Yet others were accepting but fearful that she would attempt to inflict rules on their behaviour that weren't agreed upon by their new ad hoc democracy. The debates went on for hours and for days.

\--------------

The day before Evelynne was due to return, Cullen surprised Benna. "I want us to spar while you hold your barrier. If you can, you should cast spells as well." She frowned at him. They hadn't used any real form of combat in their training yet; only fireballs at snowmen. She wasn't sure if she could do it. He read the doubt in her face. "It's the next logical step. You have to be capable of maintaining the barrier as you are fighting, and it would be best if you could blend your magic with the staff training you do with Lysette. If you put the barrier over me, you won't be able to hurt me if you cast, and I promise to hold back."

Benna sighed and rolled her eyes. "I know it's the next logical step, but I'm afraid of hurting you if my barrier fails. Can't we practice sparring with the barrier first?"

"You won't hurt me," he argued, but gave in to her misgivings and agreed that she wouldn't cast - at first. "When you feel comfortable, you should try sending some cold fire my way. It would make a wonderful distraction, even if it doesn't cause any damage." Once they agreed to the rules, she cast her barrier and they began. She knew from experience that her barriers generally lasted about five minutes, and at first she tried to focus on that while fending off Cullen's fairly predictable pattern of strikes. When the first barrier faded, he gave her a slightly evil look. "Keep your guard up."

The second set was a failure from the start. Cullen gave her much more of a fight, and she missed a block within three moves. Her barrier flickered, and she had to concentrate harder to maintain it, with the result that her fingers got hit. She yelped, more in surprise than pain, dropped her staff and lost the barrier. Cullen frowned, leaning on his practice spear. "You need to learn to focus on nothing. Trust that the barrier will remain, and don't anticipate my moves. Just react."

She glared at him, more comfortable now in letting him know how she felt. "It's hard!"

He was unsympathetic. "Of course it's hard." he retorted. "If it was easy, you wouldn't need training. Again." The third set went a little better, but she lost the barrier quickly. "Again. Find a rhythm."

Eventually, she found a state of mind that wasn't unlike driving a car. She had to be aware of everything around her, letting her hands and feet move of their own accord. She relaxed into an almost meditative state, her barrier humming in the back of her mind. As Cullen made to strike at her ribs, everything suddenly snapped into place. She whirled, sidestepping his strike and bringing the head of her staff into line. As it passed in front of his face, a bright flash of her cold fire flew from the tip, blinding him in the dim light of the evening. Cullen backed up half a step, blinking, and Benna finished the move, ending with the bladed end of her staff against his chest.

They stood staring at each other as her barrier faded away. Cullen's face was half surprise, half... something else. Benna wasn't sure if it scared her or not. The moment passed when he gave her a huge smile. "Excellent. That is exactly what I wanted to see. Again!" Benna grinned back, elated, and tried to recapture that moment when everything felt... right. She failed, but she was able to hold the barrier and defend against Cullen's attacks. When he finally called a halt, she felt exhausted, mentally and physically. 

Cullen leaned his staff against a tree and offered her a waterskin. But when she stepped closer, he flinched for the first time that evening. Puzzled, she shrank back. "What's wrong?" He blinked, frowned and stepped into her personal space, leaning down until they were almost nose to nose. She hardly dared blink; that frown had her worried. "Your eyes," he murmured. The tone of his voice had her relaxing a bit; he didn't sound angry, just... confused? worried? 

Benna swallowed. "What about my eyes?"

"They're glowing. It's fading now, but... your eyes were gold." She wished she had a mirror. She suddenly realised how close they were; she could feel his breath on her lips, feel the heat of his body radiating from his armour. Her eyes widened as she remembered, all in a rush, that Cullen was a very handsome man, and that they were alone. What if... She blinked and stepped back, away from his warmth. She dropped her eyes and wrapped her arms around her waist, suddenly feeling cold. "I've never seen my eyes glow before. Are you sure it wasn't just a trick of the light?"

Cullen had apparently remembered himself too. He straightened up and looked off to the side. "I'm sure. It may be a side effect of your magic, or something else. I would have felt it if you'd been possessed..."

"I'm sure it was nothing. Shall we get back?"

He shook himself and nodded, glancing up at the darkened sky. She fell into step beside him, a tense silence falling between them. As they reached the edge of the training grounds, he stopped her at the edge of the torchlight. "You did very well tonight. When she has time, I look forward to showing the Herald how much you've learned. You should be proud."

Benna smiled up at him. "Thank you, Cullen." She answered softly. "I couldn't have done it without you." He snorted sceptically, but she insisted. "No, really. I don't think anyone else would have taken as much time to teach me, and you've been wonderful." Surprising herself and him, she went on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She heard his sudden intake of breath, and dropped back. Catching his eyes, she smiled again. "Good night, Cullen." 

It wasn't until she had already started walking away that she heard him reply quietly, "Good night, my lady."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The In Hushed Whispers story arc is only just starting! I'll probably avoid doing a lot of in-depth writing of the various missions, but Benna is still busy. 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying all the mystery... XD


	22. In Which Drinks Are Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in this chapter, none of my characters would co-operate! I tried this from about four different viewpoints before Cullen stepped in to save the day. 
> 
> I've added a new work in this series for drabbles and one shots. If you hate Hunter, go check out my first one, and if you have a prompt for me, let me know.
> 
> XxX

Evelynne could barely sit still. She wriggled and bounced and shifted her weight until Sal gave her a disapproving snort and trotted unnecessarily hard to punish her. Trying to soothe her horse just got her another snort and a head toss. But she simply couldn't help it. Evelynne was too excited to see Benna and the children; a month and a half was far too long to go without seeing them.

"It certainly has a... rustic charm, my dear." Vivienne said languidly as they came into sight of the village. "It's very... Fereldan." Evelynne rolled her eyes safely out of Madame's view. She was already tired of the woman, but even Cassandra hadn't been able to deny that she brought more than just her magic to the Inquisition. Vivienne had connections to almost everyone in Orlais; if they were to expand the influence of their little organisation, her word was powerful in many circles. That did not make her any more of a pleasant travelling companion. Her little jabs hidden behind a veil of politeness made Evelynne's skin itch, and the way Vivienne looked at everyone meant that most of the party avoided her. Solas had had an outright argument with her over his apostate status and the usefulness of anything he could contribute. It was the most emotion that Evelynne had seen him show, ever.

Sera, riding to Evelynne's right like the proverbial sack of potatoes, blew Madame a raspberry. "Whatever, yeah? Not like we'll spend that much time here. S'long's there's beer, who cares?"

Evelynne smothered a laugh under Varric's enthusiastic 'Here, here!'. She and Sera had hit it off immediately, despite Evelynne being 'too elfy' for the archer's taste. They shared a similar irreverent sense of humour, and their mutual love for the bow had led to a (mostly) friendly rivalry. Each evening, they set up trick shots for the other to master; a leaf at the top of a tree, a ball of rags half hidden, the tip of Vivienne's horned hat (that was was Sera's). Varric had been disqualified from competing by Sera on the basis that Bianca 'wasn't a proper bow'. Which, of course, led to endless bickering. At least it had kept them entertaining on the road.

Vivienne gave that Orlesian sigh and tutted at Sera. "One must try to keep up appearances, dear. If we wish to be taken seriously, we should have our home in order, no?" Another raspberry from the blonde elf, but Evelynne had stopped listening. She had spotted Benna's bright hair outside the stables. Kicking Sal into a canter, she waved as frantically as she could, her excited shouts ringing across the snow.

Benna was laughing and waving too, and the children scrambled out from the stables when they heard Evelynne's shouts of greeting. Evelynne almost threw herself out of the saddle and was caught by a laughing Benna, leaving a disgruntled Sal to be held by a nearby soldier. The children danced around them both, and a babble of voices rose.

"Oh, I missed you! Wait 'till I tell you..."

"Evelynne! I learned to jump a horse!"

"Look! I drawed you a picture!"

"Haven's been empty..."

"Orlais is..."

"And we..."

"And I..."

In those moments, with her arms as far around the three of them as she could manage, Evelynne felt... like home was wherever they were. How odd. An elf with a human family. She couldn't stop smiling. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be Evelynne, not only the Herald. 

As she admired the drawing and laughed as the children tried to tell her in thirty seconds everything they had done in six weeks, she cast her eyes over Benna. She had harboured the secret fear that Leliana would have decided to question her friend even after they had spoken. But her fears seemed to be unfounded; Benna looked much better; she stood with more confidence and didn't flinch as the children grabbed her hands. She was wearing one of her new outfits and carried her bladed staff on her back. The children, too, seemed bright and happy, evidence of their malnutrition gone. 

As Evelynne finally released her... family and turned to take Sal from the very patient soldier, she realised that it was Cullen. Creators, she hadn't even noticed him standing there. Smiling up at him, she took Sal's reins. "Sorry, Cullen! I didn't realise it was you. How is Haven?"

He gave her a slightly stiff bow. "Still standing, Herald. It's good to see you return safely."

Evelynne sighed happily. "It's good to be back. Trail rations and tents soon get old." Cullen gave her a half smile. "I trust you've been keeping an eye on Benna?"

"Of course he has," the woman herself put in. "He's been helping me train, just like you wanted. Everything's been fine, I promise." They were interrupted by the arrival of Evelynne's travelling companions and Josephine, who had been increasingly giddy about the arrival of Madame de Fer. Evelynne introduced the two groups. Benna received a dismissal from Sera since she was 'way too elfy - even worse than her Heraldyness' and a sniff from Vivienne. Benna surprised the group when she gave the mage a shallow bow. "As a member of Haven's Mage Collective, I welcome you to Haven, Madame. The others are eager to meet you." Evelynne's eyes widened when she realised that Benna was speaking Common, and very well too. The lessons with Josephine had done wonders.

Vivienne gave Benna a condescending smile. "I'm sure they are. I'm certain they must be aching for proper organisation once again."

Benna gave another bow, hiding her slight smirk from everyone except Evelynne. "As you say," she murmured non-commitedly. Evelynne raised her eyebrows, wondering what else had been going on in her absence. The Mage Collective? She watched as Shae waved off a soldier who went to take Evelynne's horse with far more authority than her small body should have, _and the soldier obeyed_. Benna smiled at Evelynne's obvious surprise. "I wrote to tell you that she's been assigned to work in the stables. She's one of the very few permanently assigned staff here, so people listen to her about horses." 

As the rest of the party began to file away, Evelynne took note of who stayed to care for their horses personally. Cassandra already had Havard's saddle off, and Solas was half hidden in the corner, brushing Fionn. Vivienne was already stalking away with Josephine, and Sera had somehow hoisted herself up into the roof beams and was watching all the activity, an apple in her hand. 

"You know what?" Came Varric's voice from behind Steady, "I think I actually missed this place. I definitely missed the beer! Benna, you'll join us for a few drinks, right?"

Ignoring a rude noise from above, Benna smiled over at him. "Of course! I want to hear all your adventures. And now you can ask me questions."

He snorted. "I plan to. Cassandra, join us later?" As Varric continued to invite half of Haven to drink with him, Benna turned to Cullen, who had stood half-forgotten in the doorway.

"You'll come too, won't you?" She asked him.

Startled, he blinked at her a few times before stammering a reply. "Oh, um well, I'm not sure if I have the time."

Benna smiled up at him. "Yes, you do! We'll put off training for tonight and have a drink or two instead." Her smile faltered. "Unless... you'd like some time away from me? I know we've seen a lot of each other..."

"No!" he cut her off. "It's not that. I like your company, my lady." Did he indeed? Evelynne smirked as she listened in. "I, I just..." He broke off and sighed, glancing away from Benna. "It's been a long time since I shared a drink with friends, that's all."

Varric broke in. "Curly, you say 'Yes I'd love to." when a pretty woman asks you for a drink." The dwarf was grinning widely at Cullen's discomfort, looking hugely entertained as Cullen blushed. 

The Commander drew himself up, breaking eye contact with Benna. "Yes, I'd love to." he told the air above her head. Varric snorted with laughter, but she just smiled and nodded to him. 

"Good, now that's decided," Evelynne grabbed up her packs and linked arms with her friend. "You can tell me everything that's been going on in Haven." She pulled Benna outside and up to their house, gesturing for the children to follow. All four of them chattered at once, their delight in being together again palpable. Sera made a rude noise as the group watched them disappear through the gates of Haven. "So that's this Benna she's always goin' on about? Doesn't seem like much." 

"On the contrary," Cullen murmured, more to himself than to the others. "She's something... extraordinary."

\---------------

The Singing Maiden was loud. It felt to Cullen like half of Haven was crammed into the small building, and it was filled from floorboard to ceiling with sound. Talking laughing, shouting, singing, cursing, even a lute over in the corner. He spent a lot of time around noise, but the sounds of disciplined soldiers was a world away from this chaos. Cullen stood frozen in the doorway, trying frantically to adjust to it all. It was like a slap in the face compared to the quiet of the night outside. He was so distracted, he didn't notice Benna calling out to him until she stood up and waved her arm over her head. When he finally saw her, he brought his hand up in return and started weaving through the crush of people to reach her.

By dint of being the most important people in the room, Evelynne's group had managed to get two tables and enough seats for everyone. The Herald sat with Benna on one side and Varric on the other. Sera and Cassandra both had enormous mugs of something, and even Solas sat slightly off to the side. On Benna's other side was an elf Cullen didn't recognise sharing a bench with her. She smiled up at him and shoved the other elf in a friendly way, moving him further down the bench and sliding down herself to make room for Cullen between herself and Evelynne. He felt a sudden flash of some emotion he couldn't name. She was obviously close to the elf if she felt comfortable enough to sit so close to him.

He cautiously took the offered sliver of the bench and nodded at the group in general, uncomfortably aware that Varric was watching his every move. "Cullen, you look _son'ala_... good. I don't think I've ever seen you without your armour on!" Benna half shouted in his ear to make herself heard over the noise. He flushed and turned to look at her.

"Thank you," he replied, "You look... beautiful." And she did. Benna was wearing a dark blue dress that fit her perfectly, with a wide scooped neck that left half her shoulders exposed. Her hair was loose for the first time that he remembered, tumbling down her back in a gorgeous array of curls. She was flushed from the alcohol and the heat of the fire behind her, and she looked a little unsteady. She blushed a little and dropped her eyes, before her attention was claimed by the elf at her side.

Cullen felt an elbow jamming into his ribs and turned to the left to meet Evelynne's eyes. The Herald lifted her mug to half cover her face and asked him, "How has she been really? I've been worried about her." He was midway through reassuring the Herald, when Sera let out a belch that should not have come from such a slender body and announced;

"We need a game! Here, s'called 'Liar liar'. Someone tells a story and we guess if it's true or a lie. If you get it wrong, you buy the next round! I'll go first..." She launched into a jumbled, nonsensical story about guardsmen with no breeches, which had most of the table laughing almost immediately. Cullen was amazed when her story actually turned out to be true. He surrendered to the shouts and ordered a new round of drinks, and they settled in to listen to Varric's turn. 

The last round had apparently hit Benna hard; she'd been a little tipsy when he arrived, and apparently, that had been one too many. She leaned against him and propped her chin on his shoulder as she listened to Varric. He could feel... all of her pressed up against his arm, and smell the honey from the mead she'd been drinking on her breath. One of her curls tickled his ear. He sat awkwardly, not really sure what to do. Should he ignore it? Put his arm around her? What? He shifted a little to make her more comfortable, and she gave a little sigh, right in his ear. Suddenly uncomfortable for a different reason, he felt his ears redden and glanced around, hoping no one noticed.

Varric's story dissolved into shouts of "Liar! Liar!" from Evelynne and Cassandra, with the rest of them in fits of laughter. As the new drinks arrived, Benna spoke up.

"I once saw Cullen saluting snowmen!"

Cassandra's eyes rounded. "You did not!"

Benna leaned up a little and grinned across the table at her. "I did! I made some with the children in the afternoon and then I used them as target practice for my fireballs!" She conjured a tiny ball of flame, no bigger than a fingernail, and shot it across the table. Everyone except Cullen flinched; apparently, her magic was a surprise to half of them. Not noticing the reactions, she continued. "Then as we were leaving I turned around and he's there saluting them like they're soldiers that fell in battle!" She mimicked him and dissolved into giggles, leaning against him even more. The Herald and her companions exchanged glances, laughing too. 

"I think I speak for all of us when I say; Liar!" Varric declared. Grinning hugely, Benna shook her head, curls flying everywhere. 

"Really? That's true?" Cassandra demanded. Cullen had felt the blush raging across his face since Benna had started her story, but he couldn't help laughing at Cassandra's stunned expression. 

"I can have _some_ fun you know, Cass." He teased, the mead loosening his tongue.

"Well, knock me down with a feather. There's hope for you yet, Curly." 

He snorted and grinned at them all. "I believe every single one of you owes us a drink."


	23. In Which Mead Is Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Fire_Kitten for reading through this beforehand.   
> Hope you enjoy.  
> xx

Cullen ended up half carrying a giggling Herald and a staggering Benna back to their cabin. As the soberest one in the tavern, he'd been nominated. Soberererest being a relative term, he considered, as the three of them staggered around a barrel left inexplicably in the middle of their path.

Benna was singing what sounded like a drinking song in Elven, with the Herald laughing uncontrollably at the lyrics. Cullen just enjoyed the sound of her voice, soaring into the snowy skies. As they arrived at their door, the Herald said something to Benna in Elven, which caused her to lean right across Cullen's chest and slap at her friend. Cullen was forced to let go of the elf to prevent Benna from falling on her face, and she ended up clinging to his shoulders as she scolded the other woman, who was laughing so hard she was bent almost double.

"Here, I'll do it." Evelynne abruptly switched to Common and completely shocked Cullen by leaning up and giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. As he gaped at her, she laughed again and slipped through their door, closing it before Benna could follow. The mead made his head fuzzy. What in the Maker's name was going on?

"Evelynne!" Benna banged on the door with her fist, shouting so loudly it echoed off the nearby cabins. Her only answer was more giggles as the Herald apparently held the door shut. Sighing, Benna turned to Cullen. "Sorry." She said. Cullen turned to look at her and ask what... they both drew in a sharp breath when their lips touched, and Cullen staggered back. Benna stood there, swaying slightly, and brought a hand up to her lips. They stared at each other for several seconds, before Cullen skitter-stepped back, tried to bow, almost fell on his face, and left. Quickly.

\---------------- 

Benna woke at home bracing herself for a massive hangover. She knew she'd drunk too much mead, but the stuff was wonderful; a liquor made of honey. It tasted of sunshine and made her lips tingle and her tongue want to sing. Surprisingly, she felt nothing worse than a small headache. Not that she was complaining. With no work that day, she indulged herself by relaxing in bed for a while longer; the children were adorable and she loved them dearly, but they weren't exactly conducive to a quiet morning. 

Now that Evelynne had returned, her mind began to turn over the question of Hunter's behaviour. They had barely spoken in over a week; the cycle of joviality, followed by an argument and silence continued. He hadn't hit her again, but they'd had a fight over something trivial about ten days ago. He'd bruised her arm where he'd grabbed her. She never knew what kind of mood he was in, or what would set him off. He had taken to spending several nights a week away from home as well. Deep down, Benna knew what all of it meant, but she couldn't bring herself to face it. It would hurt too much.

She didn't want to hear about her shortcomings or his justifications. She didn't want to fight. So she kept her silence and protected herself the best she could. She wrote sparkling emails to Charity and smiled and joked with her team at work. She cooked beautiful meals and the house fairly glowed. She even tried a few of the exercises she had learned from Lysette. None of it really helped. She accepted Hunter's vague excuses about having to work and going to conferences, because the alternative felt worse.

Tonight, he didn't come home, and she found herself thankful. She didn't want him to spoil the memories of Evelynne's return to Haven. Though admittedly, her memories became somewhat hazy after she won her round of 'Liar, liar'. She mostly just remembered how warm and solid Cullen had felt. She blushed at the memory of how she had forced him to support her as she leaned against him. Hopefully, no one took it as anything more than she'd had too much to drink. But she guessed that both Varric and Evelynne would have something to say tomorrow.

She did a little more research on the world of Thedas before she went to bed. She was in awe of the idea that dragons were real and existed in that world. She hoped she'd get to see one (from a distance) some day. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

\------------------------------------ 

A war council had been scheduled for the next morning, but with more than half the participants feeling rather worse for wear, it was moved to the afternoon. Still, it gave Evelynne a kind of savage pleasure to note that Cullen winced at every noise, and Cassandra looked as pale as her olive skin could. They obviously felt as awful as she did. She gripped the edge of the table to keep herself upright as she briefed her advisors on her side trip on the way back from Val-Royeaux. "We felt it best to at least make contact with the mages in Redcliff after Fiona invited us. We thought that Vivienne might bring us some goodwill with them, but truthfully they barely noticed us."

Leliana, looking fresh as a daisy, damn her, hummed thoughtfully. "It is this magister who has me concerned. We cannot leave a hostile foreign power sitting on our doorstep."

Cullen shook his head, carefully, as if he expected it to fall off. "The mages have made their choice to become 'indentured' to Tevinter. If we recruit the Templars..."

"Who still will not speak to us," Josephine interrupted in an uncharacteristically loud voice. Cassandra let out a tiny groan. Evelynne glanced at the Ambassador. Her shiny gold dress was painful to look at today, but the sadistic twinkle in her eye was worse. Evelynne curled her lip in a silent snarl when Josephine gave her a big grin.

"But it is true," Leliana considered, "the Templar's silence has me worried. What are they planning? Why are they at Therinfal? Why would they abandon the White Spire in favour of this outpost? None of the answers will please us, I fear."

"If we gathered enough support from the nobles in Orlais, the Lord Seeker would be unable to ignore us," Josephine suggested.

Ready to be done with all of it, Evelynne nodded decisively. "Then that's what we'll do. I will return to Redcliff, since this magister will only speak with me. Yes, I know it's a trap, this Dorian of House Pavus made that clear enough. We'll work on a plan. And... Cullen, will you speak with the Templars, once Josephine has rounded up some nobles? They'll respect you, hopefully enough to negotiate with you." She glanced around the table, checking to see if anyone had anything else to add. Cassandra had uncharacteristically barely said a word; she was leaning against the wall as if it was her only hope of staying upright.

When no one said anything, Evelynne inclined her head. "Good. If no one needs me, I think I need to find a private spot to be sick. Creators damn all mead!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter, but honestly no one is really up for anything after last night...


	24. In Which Benna Demonstrates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my OH who finally gave me the right way to approach this chapter. And thanks to Fire_kitten for being my beta. She has a fic as well, you should go check it out.
> 
> Xx

Benna was angry as she stomped her way across the muddy training grounds. Evelynne! Ignoring the greetings of the various soldiers she had got to know, she stalked right into Cullen's tent and scowled at him. Strangely, when he looked up at her, his face showed... surprise, confusion, embarrassment? Why was _he_ embarrassed? _His_ best friend wasn't a meddling... argh.

She plopped down on the stool they had finally managed to unearth and sighed, keeping her eyes down and away from his face. She looked at his hands instead, which he had folded on the desk in front of him. They were splattered with ink, and, she knew from experience, had calluses on the palms from holding his sword. She noticed that the knuckles on his right hand were scarred, and he had a long silver line across the back of his left that disappeared into his sleeve. Vaguely, she wondered what had caused that...

"What can I do for you, my lady?" Cullen asked, once it was clear that she wasn't going to speak first.

Benna let out a sigh that turned into a growl. "Evelynne wants me to go with you to Therinfal."

He made a strangled noise, then cleared his throat. "Uh, what? Why?"

"She says it's to show the Templars that the Inquisition is a united front. You're a Templar-"

"Former Templar." He corrected her firmly.

"... former Templar, and she says I'm the only mage she can trust to speak for her." Though privately Benna had doubts about her friend's intentions. Evelynne had been making sly comments about Cullen all morning. It made her uncomfortable.

With some amusement in his voice, Cullen considered. "Well, Solas is unlikely to be much of a negotiator, he's much too aloof and proud," Benna giggled. "And Vivienne is too..."

"Orlesian?" When he chuckled and nodded, she sighed. "I know all of that, it's just... I'm not much of a mage, am I? And I don't know anything about negotiating with Templars! I'd just be standing there and looking helpless."

Cullen leaned forward to catch her eye. "You are far from helpless. And now that Solas is back, he can teach you some more spells that will be helpful. As for negotiating, I have no doubt that Josephine will give us each a script." Benna giggled again; she had no doubt that the ambassador would do just that. Cullen suddenly looked awkward. "Unless... is it that you don't want to go, or that you don't want to go... with me? I can understand if..." He trailed off, looking off to the side.

"No! No, Cullen, that's not it. It's just... this is a lot of responsibility. I don't think I'm ready for it."

"Would you like me to speak to the other advisors, find someone else?"

Benna sighed and smiled up at him, finally meeting his eyes. "You're no good to complain at. You're supposed to persuade me that I ought to go because it will be good for the Inquisition, and for the mages, and for our position in negotiations..."

"What about for you, personally? Will it be good for you?" Surprised, she blinked at him a few times as he raised his eyebrows at her. "That's what you should be considering first. If you really believe that you can't do it..."

Benna shook her head. "No, I can do it, I suppose. If Evelynne says she needs me to do it, I believe her. It's just... I worry."

"I know. But we'll make plans. I was just deciding which of our soldiers to take; would you like to look over it with me?" Smiling, her annoyance with Evelynne forgotten, for now, Benna drew her stool closer and leaned over to look at his notes.

"Well, Scout Jim is out; he can't keep his mouth shut about _anything_..."

\------------------------ 

With their departure tentatively set for a week's time, Benna went to visit Solas in the hopes of learning some spells that might be useful. She only had her fireball spell and a barrier; she hoped he could teach her another offensive spell. She was also planning on asking some of the other mages, despite his disdain for them.

He was just leaving his cabin when she arrived, so they arranged to meet later so she could demonstrate what she had learned in the time he'd been away. The Mage Collective spent over an hour arguing amongst themselves, before handing her a pile of books. Their admonishments to be careful with their books ringing in her ears, she heaved them into the tavern and settled in to read.

Varric found here there at lunchtime. "Hey, Embers. What'cha reading?"

Benna stretched and looked around. "Hi, Varric. Books the mages gave me for learning new spells. I think the only time they're a collective is when they're taking care of books."

He chuckled and sat down opposite her, pushing the wall of paper to one side. "Guess you heard about Redcliff? Those mages didn't seem united either; we heard plenty of doubts about the 'Vints."

"Maybe it's a trait of all mages?" She grinned when he laughed. "Hopefully they'll be better when we get to closing the Breach. I'm not sure Madame will be any help with that though."

"What, Vivienne of The Circle isn't a unifying force? What an amazing idea!"

They chatted for a while, sharing news and gossip. He prodded her about her new ease with the Commander, and she protested that she'd been drunk; no one should be held accountable for their actions when they'd had that much mead. She still blushed though.

Eventually, she left him to head for the training grounds. It was busy, as usual, but she stopped to wave to Lysette and intercept Cullen as he made the rounds, observing the different training groups. "Cullen! Do you have time to help me show Solas the progress I've made? It shouldn't take too long."

Surprised, he stuttered before replying; "Err, well... I suppose I'm not too busy just now..."

"Great! Can you bring your staff?" At his nod she smiled brightly and left, walking towards the frozen lake. She greeted Solas cheerfully, but Evelynne was still unforgiven and received a scowl. Which the elf only found more amusing. Solas wanted to test the strength of her barrier first; they moved about ten feet from each other and he attacked her barrier. Solas seemed pleased with the strength of it, giving her a faint but approving smile. Evelynne stood on the sidelines, cheering her on. 

Once Cullen arrived, they switched to a more active demonstration. Benna cast her barrier on herself, and she and Cullen began to spar, with the agreement that she would cast if she felt she could. She was worried about hurting him, but he smirked at her and said: "I'd be a poor Commander if I let myself get hurt by a recruit only two months into her training." He got a scowl as well. 

They 'fought' until her barrier fell, but instead of calling a halt, Cullen just struck at her head, calling "Get that barrier back up!" She blocked the hit and frowned in concentration, trying to do both at once. It took a few seconds, but she managed to cast her barrier again, and even send a flash of cold fire towards Cullen. 

Evelynne's shouted encouragements were suddenly cut off when a scream rose from the stables. The whole group turned, sparring forgotten, and Benna was running before her brain could process that it had been a little girls scream. _Shae_.

With Evelynne beside her, Benna ran as if her feet had suddenly grown wings. She could hear shouts, the breaking of wood and the screams of an angry horse, but none of it mattered. Only Shae mattered. They burst into the stables side by side. Vivienne's horse was half out of its stall, the door shattered and hanging off its hinges from the powerful animal's hooves. Shae was stood in front of the rearing animal, her arms outstretched. She looked tiny compared to the size and power of the Orleisian Courser. There was a large shard of wood embedded in her shoulder.

Benna felt something happen to her still-active barrier, but it didn't matter. She ran forward just as the horse's hoof shot forwards and kicked the little girl in the chest. She flew backwards and Benna managed to catch her before she fell, turning their bodies to protect Shae from any more danger. Vaguely aware that Evelynne was attempting to calm the horse, Benna trusted her friend and focused on Shae.

The damage was extensive. She could somehow feel that. It was like her magic had decided that they were the same person. She somehow knew that Shae had a collapsed lung from the last hit, as well as extensive bruising, the shard in her shoulder and her body was going into shock. Benna held her tight and just... unleashed her magic. The little girl stiffened in her arms, but she didn't cry out. Benna felt rather than saw a golden glow surround them. But she could feel Shae's lung re-inflate.

For what felt like hours, she knelt on the floor of the stables and concentrated on sustaining whatever this was. She felt Shae's injuries shrinking. The shard of wood started to work its way out of her shoulder, the wound closing behind it. The bruising was fading. 

There were loud voices somewhere else, but Benna couldn't let that distract her. She needed Shae to be well. _Nothing else mattered_.

Her concentration was broken when someone wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She looked up, dazed, and met Cullen's golden eyes. "It's alright." He said slowly and carefully. "She's alright. You can let her go." When Benna only held the unconscious girl tighter, he started to look worried. "You _must_ let her go. You're draining yourself. You can't help her if you're unconscious. Please."

It was the 'please' that convinced her. And Cullen looked so worried. His eyes pleaded with her. Slowly, she released her hold on Shae, trying to carefully put her down on the floor. Her muscles screamed at her; they'd been clamped in place for too long, and she winced as she jarred Shae. Cullen caught the little girl and laid her down gently. Benna smiled at him in gratitude, the golden light finally fading. She realised that he'd been right; she had used too much magic. She could feel the weakness in her limbs and her thoughts.

As she sagged against him, Cullen dug through a pocket and pulled out one of the leaves he had given her before. She let him place it on her tongue and tried to chew, but her vision wavered and she collapsed, unconscious, into his arms.


	25. In Which Questions Have No Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry everyone! All I have are excuses;  
> 1 - I find Hunter awful to write and I needed to make sure everything was headed in the right direction  
> 2 - Easter and work got crazy  
> 3 - Fire_Kitten and I have managed to find new ways to procrastinate  
> 4 - We've also started writing the crossover fic no one asked for, and that we can't publish until we're significantly further along with our individual works
> 
> But here's a brief experiment with Solas' POV and Benna's thoughts.

Solas stood leaning on his staff, observing as the humans scurried around, trying to set the stables to rights. The horse, finally calm, was being led out to be penned nearby, and carpenters were already removing the ruined door. But his mind was on the unconscious human being carried away by the Commander. _She_ was interesting.

She'd had his attention from the first; her use of his native tongue was unnerving. And it was the language of his birth, no doubts about that. No one knew even a tenth of what she spoke. Even her accent was of Arlathan. Yet she knew nothing of magic, even as it was bursting through her skin. He'd had to teach her to call _light_.

And now this... incident. It wasn't the healing, nor that she had drained herself to the point of unconsciousness to complete it. Although it had obviously been instinctual, untrained as she was, Solas had known Spirit Healers with such an understanding. Yet he had sensed no spirits around her. It was that... There was no other way to say it. She had been wreathed in golden flames. The woman and the child. And they had not been harmed.

As a manifestation of magic, it was unheard of. To have it under control? Perhaps the fire had been the method of healing? Yet why would it manifest in such a way? Every healing he had ever witnessed had merely produced a faint glow, if anything. He himself had advised waiting until the spell was complete to approach, fearing that the magic would burn an interloper. Even the Herald had quailed at the sight, despite her concern. Yet the Commander had walked into the flames with no hesitation. Concern for the woman? Or the child? Or confidence in his Templar abilities to protect him? Questions upon questions.

He wondered if Benna was something more than she appeared. Was she one of the Evanuris reborn? Or one of the Old Gods? That possibility troubled him more than a little. Her appearance now, with the Breach in the sky and the presence of the Mark, could not be a coincidence.

Solas straightened, and stalked away from the stables, towards his cabin. He would look for her in the Fade. Benna's dreams would surely show him some of her secrets.

\---------------------------

Benna woke at home and lay staring at the shadowed ceiling. She was trying to process what had happened. Shae had been hurt. Vivienne's horse had panicked or got angry about something and Shae - that tiny girl - had been the only one trying to calm it. What use were all those _fucking_ soldiers if they couldn't take care of one horse?

And then... something had happened. Benna had healed her. Using magic she didn't know and a spell that wasn't a spell. It had felt more like... As if Benna's aura or magic or something had reached out and included Shae. It had been instinctual, but Benna found that she didn't care what had happened, as long as Shae was alright. And Cullen had said she was, hadn't he? She trusted him to tell her the truth.

It was three in the morning. Falling unconscious must have affected her usual pattern; since dreaming of Thedas, she woke at 6:30 every morning, no matter how late she stayed awake in Haven. Everyone would be worried about her; from what she'd heard, a mage who exhausted themselves like that could be unconscious for days or even slip into a coma. Benna doubted that Cullen would allow any harm to come to her, or Evelynne either, but she still felt guilty for making them worry.

Try as she might, she couldn't go back to sleep. She supposed that her body in Thedas was recovering. Restless, she got out of bed and wandered downstairs, not bothering to switch on the lights. Tonight was one of the nights that Hunter hadn't returned home, and she found herself grateful; he wouldn't have been a soothing presence. She needed time to process what had happened. 

A cup of tea in hand, she sat in the living room and thought. She hadn't met any mage who could heal as she had, and she hadn't heard of one either. Some of the mages worked in the healers' cabin, but from what she had overheard their healing took great concentration and effort, even with the smallest of injuries. They had studied for years to be able to perform those spells. Benna had healed a serious injury with nothing but instinct and desire.

Her eyes wandered and her mind followed. She looked at the photos arranged on the mantlepiece. Herself and Hunter, laughing. Charity and Dylan, their arms around a blushing Benna at a birthday party. Hunter's parents. Hunter's promotion celebration. A small photograph of Benna's mother, almost the only one she had. Benna sighed; most of the people in those pictures had moved on. Her mind was filled with her new friends and family, imagining their faces in the glossy images. Shae and Mal, Minaeve, Samae. Cullen. And Evelynne most of all. She was the best friend Benna had ever had.

Her reverie was broken when she heard the sound of a key in the lock. Hunter was home. At five in the morning. It was still dark! What on earth was he doing? Benna sat in the dark and listened as he strode through the house confidently. He made no effort to be quiet and avoid waking her, surely he assumed she was asleep? He was even whistling pieces of a tune. She got the feeling that he had done this before, whatever this was. 

A light flickered on and she heard the shower running, but still didn't move. She remained curled up on the sofa, her mug of tea long grown cold in one hand, just listening. The shower turned off. A pause as he dried himself. He moved into the spare bedroom, still humming snatches of music. She hadn't heard him whistle or sing in a very long time. Song used to burst out of him whenever he was happy. She tensed as he came down the stairs, but he didn't pause or do anything except walk straight out of the front door, locking it behind him.

She sat, feeling chilled. He hadn't even looked in on her, or he would have noticed that she wasn't in bed. He hadn't bothered to even try and be quiet. Her life in Thedas had left her blind to what Hunter was doing. He had such confidence in the way he moved, surely he must have done this before. He had fresh clothes in the spare bedroom. And he certainly wasn't drunk. Suddenly, she missed the sound of his voice, the rumble of his laughter. Surely it hadn't been months since she heard him laugh?

Enough. She needed to get ready for work. She turned the shower to hot, trying to banish the chills that ran over her skin.

\--------------------------

When Hunter came home that evening, Benna was ready for him. She had thought carefully about this all day, afraid of triggering an argument. First, his favourite meal was waiting for him. She had even managed to bake cookies. He grunted with approval and took a long swig of the beer she poured for him. First stage complete.

Second, they moved to the living room and she poured him another drink. She put the rest away in the kitchen. She wanted him relaxed, not drunk. 

Finally, she sat sideways on the sofa, facing him. "Hunter?"

"Mmm?"

"It feels like I haven't seen you in weeks. Is everything ok?"

He sighed. Impatiently? "Yeah, everything's fine. I've just been super busy at work and stressed out because of it."

"So... It's nothing I've done then?"

He finally looked over at her. "I'll be honest. You haven't helped. I've been worried about you not being able to handle your new job. And some of the shit you cook..." he trailed off with a chuckle.

Her Thedas family had never complained about her cooking, she thought with a flash of - something. But she smiled weakly at his joke anyway. Daring to reach out, she brushed her fingers across his wrist. "I just miss you, that's all. Will work calm down soon? I'm worried we're growing apart, and I don't want that."

She stiffened as he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her across the sofa. She relaxed when he merely tucked her under his arm and sighed. "I know. I'll try to make it up to you."

She hummed an acknowledgement, but when he fell asleep on the sofa, she went to bed without him. She needed to talk to Cullen. She needed to know that Shae was alright.


	26. In Which There Are Awakenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like you guys should expect one chapter a week now that I've run through the openings - things get a lot more complicated from here.  
> Also Fire_Kitten and our crossover fic is faaar too much fun to write!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one - I <3 Cullen AND Evelynne so much
> 
> Xx

When Benna next opened her eyes, it was to the slightly disconcerting sight of Mal's face within inches of her own. The boy was draped across her chest, fast asleep. Peering past his unruly mop of hair, absently noting that both children needed a haircut, Benna spotted Evelynne curled around Shae in the other bed. Both were asleep. 

Unwilling to move too much and wake everyone, she carefully shifted Mal until he rested on the pillow. She was desperatley thirsty. Slowly and carefully she sat up. She froze in surprise, even as her heart warmed to see Cullen slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and breathing even. Someone, Benna suspected Mal, had tucked a toy horse into the crook of his elbow, and someone else, probably Evelynne, had draped him with a blanket. He was out of his armour, and his face was pinched into a frown. Benna's guilt over making them worry came back with a rush.

Carefully, she swung her legs out of bed and tested her balance. She was still shaky from draining her magic, but she hoped that she would be able to get to where some inconsiderate bastard had left the water jug, five feet away. Using pieces of furniture for balance, she edged around Cullen's outstretched legs and felt a thrill of victory as her fingers closed around the jug. Cautiously she sipped, testing her stomach's willingness to accept the water, and then took several big swigs.

Her hands shook as she put the jug back down, and she slopped some water on the table. But she was unable to care, as her legs decided they weren't reporting for duty any more. She sank to the floor. Feeling unbearably weary, she decided against any undignified crawling to the bed in favour of curling up next to Cullen, stealing his blanket and propping her head on his thigh.

 _He makes a good pillow_ , she mused dazedly. She smiled as she fully realised that the Commander had stayed to make sure she was alright. She was glad. Between the heat of the fire and the smooth, regular breathing within the cabin, Benna slipped into a dark well, where she was conscious of neither world.

\----------------- 

When Evelynne awoke, dawn was breaking. The little cabin was filled with a murky grey-green light, barely touching the edges of things. The fire had died down, and the sounds of sleep filled the tiny home. She sat up quietly, checking on Shae to make sure that none of her injuries had reappeared. 

"How is she?"

Evelynne startled and looked over to where Cullen sat. She had honestly expected that he would have left during the night; he had responsibilities after all. But he was still propped against the wall where he'd fallen asleep, looking up at her in the dim light. 

And Benna was curled up beside him, her head in his lap.

Evelynne tilted her head; she hadn't really considered Benna's relationship with Cullen to be anything more than friendship, despite her teasing. But if Benna felt comfortable enough to sleep so close to him... perhaps this _was_ something more after all. But what if he didn't feel the same?

Her nascent fears were calmed when Cullen absent-mindedly ran his fingers over Benna's curls, his touch gentle. She blinked at him and finally processed his question. She glanced back down at Shae and cleared her throat. "She seems fine. No fever."

Cullen nodded and looked down at Benna, still stroking her hair. Silence fell, tinged with a little tension. Cullen couldn't be unaware of what Evelynne was seeing in his actions. She didn't want to interfere with whatever they had, but still... Benna was vulnerable. Evelynne wrestled with herself, and lost.

"Do you care for her?"

Cullen sucked in a breath at the quiet question. She could see his cheeks flush. But he didn't deny it. Eventually he looked up. "I... I don't know how to answer that. I... She's..."

"Yes." Evelynne agreed. "She is. She's my dearest friend. She's kind, loving, gentle... and she is sensitive."

"I know." he said quietly.

She searched for words. "I go into danger every day. I can't be here all the time. Will you..?"

"I'll be with her." He understood what she was asking.

"Good. She needs a protector."

"No." Cullen replied seriously. "She just needs someone to teach her how to protect _herself_. She is stronger than you think, Herald." Surprised, Evelynne wondered what Cullen had seen that she hadn't. The idea that Benna had told him some of her secrets... She decided that she was glad that Benna had that good a friend in Cullen. So she witheld the questions rising in her throat and just nodded.

After a pause, she cleared her throat again. "If you hurt her..."

"I would never." He said it as if it was a vow, his eyes on Benna's sleeping face. Surprised by the force in his voice, Evelynne fell silent. She watched the two for a while longer before deciding to leave the Commander to this moment. She lay back down beside Shae and waited for the sun to rise.


	27. In Which Benna Draws Her Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one caused me some trouble.
> 
> Hope you like it though!
> 
> Thanks as always to Fire_Kitten who takes time out of her writing to beta mine. You should go read her fic it's awesome
> 
> XxX

"My dear, surely you agree..."

"I believe this to be well within my abilities."

"I have no doubt. But a fully _trained_ mage..."

"Yes. Trained to have a closed mind!"

"Are you two gonna stand there an' fight all day? 'Cos Evelynne said no one comes in."

Benna cracked an eye open and squinted at the door. Two of the three voices were familiar; Solas and Mal. The third...

"I'm _certain_ she didn't mean to keep me out, my dear. She probably meant the curious and idle around Haven. I've sent several of those away myself." Vivienne. Benna fought down an unreasonable wave of anger towards the older woman. It had been her horse that had injured Shae.

Mal was unmoved and unmoving. "She said _no one_. I don' know you, lady, an' I'm not lettin' you in without Evelynne's say-so." He stood in the open doorway, blocking the entrance to the little cabin. Benna fought a smile. He was so staunch in his defence of their territory. He reminded her of one of the war-dogs, a mabari, growling at any and all interlopers. She debated the wisdom of allowing either or both of the mages to enter, and decided that she just didn't have the energy to deal with them right now. So she stayed still and waited for them to give up - Mal certainly wasn't letting them in any time soon.

She was back in a bed and Cullen was gone. She had a vague memory of him moving her from her cosy spot by the fire. Shae was still asleep. Benna wondered if she should worry about that, but there weren't any of the Inquisition's healers hovering about, so she decided that Shae was probably fine, just sleeping to recover from the trauma and the healing. She remembered that Mal had slept for almost twelve hours after he cut his hand.

Evelynne was also absent, probably doing some damage control. And it would be necessary, Benna admitted to herself. She knew enough of magic by now to know that what she'd done had been unheard of except by Spirit Healers. And she certainly wasn't one of those. She'd begun to doubt that she had any connection to the Fade at all. Everyone in Haven would have heard about the healing by now, and everyone who even thought they had the right to offer an opinion would be. She almost groaned when she imagined the advisors, mages, healers and clerics standing around arguing with each other. All over her and Shae. 

Not to mention the 'curious and the idle' Vivienne had mentioned. Benna gave serious consideration to burying herself in the little bed and hiding until everyone went away. Surely the newest gossip about the Herald would divert the attention? 

She lay still until Vivienne and Solas left, still bickering about who would be best to care for her. Benna, not Shae. She felt disgusted; they were more concerned with the magic than an injured child. If that was what having magic made you, she didn't want any of it. 

Mal closed the door as the mages left and caught Benna's eye as he turned. Seeing that she was awake, he flung himself at her, wrapping his whole body around hers in a giant hug. Neither of them said anything until his almost soundless sobs had subsided. She simply hugged him back and leaned her cheek against his shaggy head. "You need a haircut, young man." She finally murmured, when the first storm of emotion had passed. She wasn't completely dry-eyed herself.

Mal let out a watery laugh and pulled back a little bit, wiping his face with the back of one hand. His eyes scanned her face before he asked "Are you gonna be okay? The Commander said yes but he doesn't do magic."

Benna smiled. "If the Commander said so, then I'll have to be, won't I? I'm fine, Mal. I just used too much magic and had to sleep to make up for it. Like if you do too much running." He nodded and slipped off the bed. Just like that, he was reassured. He padded over to where a small pot was keeping warm on the hearth and lifted the lid.

"I got you soup. Flissa said it's good for sick people." Benna smiled and held out her hands for the bowl he poured. He'd forgotten to give her a spoon so she sipped from the bowl. It was chicken soup heavily flavoured with thyme. She had never tasted anything better - she hadn't eaten in over a day, judging by the light. 

Mal watched in satisfaction as she drained the bowl. Feeling stronger, she leaned back against the pillows and sipped from the mug of water someone had finally remembered to put on the bedside table. "I suppose I should start talking to people. Could you ask someone to fetch Evelynne? She can decide who I need to speak to." Mal nodded and went to the door. She listened to his childish voice call over a runner he worked with - an older boy named Martan. He gave orders like a general, and she hid her smile of amusement behind her mug.

When he came back she asked him about Shae. She'd been right; the healers all said she was fine and just needed to sleep and wake on her own. Mal reported that everyone had been more worried about Benna once they knew Shae was alright, with lots of healers and mages coming and going while Evelynne and Cullen watched. It made Benna feel guilty and happy all at once; some of the mages were her friends and it sounded like they'd mostly come to check on her, not to pretend they were important. 

It wasn't long before the door was flung open and Evelynne ran in. She stopped short of throwing herself on Benna like Mal had, and just stood, staring. Her eyes seemed to take up her whole face, the green in them startling. Benna held out her arms and her friend stumbled the final step to wrap her in a tight hug. Her shoulders shook, but when she pulled back her eyes were dry.

"I was so worried. Cullen said you'd be fine, but I've never even _heard_ of something like that! What did you do?!"

Benna frowned. "I healed her. I don't really know how, but does it matter? She's alive and uninjured."

Evelynne waved her off. "Not the healing! You were on fire!" Benna stared. Evelynne waved her arms around in agitation. "You were actually on fucking fire, gold flames and everything! But you weren't burning! And neither was Shae! Solas said to leave you but Cullen just walked up to you like nothing was happening! But _you were on fire_!" Benna began to suspect that the fire had been a bit of a concern.

Evelynne eventually wound down and sat watching her. Feeling that some sort of response was called for, she shrugged. "I have no idea. Something happened to my barrier, and it felt like Shae was part of me for a few minutes, but that's all I can tell you. Sorry about the fire?"

"Sorry?!" The elf sputtered for a bit, casting about for a proper response, before giving up and wrapping Benna in another hug. "I'll go inform the proper people that you're awake. Are you up to talking?" When Benna nodded, Evelynne smiled and walked to the door. Just as she opened it, she turned back. "Thank you for healing Shae. You did a good thing. Just remember that while the whole of Haven asks you inappropriate questions."

\--------

The next time the door opened, and Benna was a bit surprised it was still on its hinges at this point, it was to admit the advisors, who followed Evelynne into the room. Chairs were drawn up for Leliana and Josephine, and Cullen stood behind them, leaning on the fireplace. Evelynne sent Mal off to find some more soup for them all. No one said anything for a moment. It was Josephine, of course, who broke the silence.

"I think I speak for us all when I say that we are happy that you've awoken, my lady. How are you feeling?"

Feeling a bit trapped, Benna smiled politely. "I'm recovering, thank you. How may I be of assistance to the council?"

"They're worried you're dangerous," Evelynne said flatly. "They want to have some mages poke at you to make sure you're not possessed by a demon."

Shocked, Benna jerked her head around to look at the elf. She shouldn't be surprised; it was what she had expected. But Evelynne had said it so baldly. She felt a tinge of betrayal; surely Cullen knew her well enough to know she wasn't dangerous? He was avoiding her eyes, guiltily. Her heart hurt a little.

Shaking off her emotions, she turned back to the others. "And this is the will of the council?" Her tone had steel in it. "You wish me to be... _inspected_ because I healed a child?"

"Say rather, we would like to make an assessment of your magic. Cullen has _assured_ us that your magic is under your control and that he sensed no demons, but with the Breach so close it is wise for us to gain a second opinion." Josephine's dark eyes were steady; she was trying to be diplomatic about it, but the demand was clear.

Benna's gaze flicked between the advisors. Leliana was back to her blank robot, but she watched every move Benna made with hawk-like attention. Josephine was apologetic but firm, and Cullen... Cullen was inspecting the floorboards with great attention, a dull flush on his cheeks. 

Suddenly feeling exhausted and drained, Benna let out a sigh; she knew they wouldn't back down, had even expected this very thing. "And who is the mage the council deems competent enough to make that determination?" She was angry, surprising even herself. Her voice was cold. She saw Cullen wince out of the corner of her eye.

"That is yet to be determined," Leliana spoke for the first time. Glancing around, Benna could see that this was the true argument, not whether she should be inspected at all. "It would be counter-productive to have a mage you are personally familiar with to make the assessment, but..."

"Vivienne is too political," Evelynne said bluntly. "She already sees you as someone who has more influence than she does, and she'll want to turn this to her own advantage. Not to mention how others will see it."

Privatley, Benna was entertained at how Josephine winced at Evelynne's blunt assessment. But the diplomat nodded in agreement. "Solas is an apostate, untrusted by most of our Circle mages, despite being one of Evelynne's companions. Yet choosing another would cause strife amongst the mages..."

Benna laughed in Josephine's face. "There's already strife among the mages! Haven't you been paying attention to them?"

"Or has the Chantry dogma affected even you, Ambassador?" Evelynne added to the tension. She was obviously still angry about this.

Josephine looked down, her dark skin hiding any blush. "We are aware, of course, that Master Elsin has opposition to his leadership," Benna couldn't suppress a snort at the idea of Elsin leading the collective argument. "But," Josephine continued doggedly, "we feel that he may be the best choice to examine you."

Benna rolled her eyes; the council obviously had no idea of the state of the petty politics amongst the mages. Instead of explaining it to them, she gave her own suggestion. "Instead of doing that - Elsin is a politicking toady, not a strong mage - have mages Mia, Solas and Vivienne each do an independent assessment. Mia is largely neutral but loyal to the Inquisition. She works at the healers."

"You would allow that level of oversight?" Leliana asked, leaning forwards in her chair.

Benna scowled at her. "This is not oversight. This is a one-time assessment. I will allow them to perform their tests, but that will be the end of it. Or I will leave."

Cullen jerked his eyes up to hers, surprise and, was that pain? written all over his face. Benna stood her ground. She was tired of this. "I have nothing to hide. You have already investigated my loyalties and my background. There will be no more of this unless I harm someone."

"If she leaves, I may very well be tempted to go with her." The Herald spoke evenly, with no room for uncertainty. "She has been helpful and loyal since I met her. No one else here has been treated this way. I would not want to be a part of an organisation that treats its own people badly."

The advisors shifted nervously. Leliana allowed a cool smile to flash across her face as she inclined her head. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. Josephine seemed flustered, but nodded and stood. "We will have the mages sent to you. Are you well enough to begin now?" Benna shrugged and nodded. It seemed that the whole of Haven was destined to see her in her nightdress. She found that she just couldn't care.


	28. In Which The Mages Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you love this chapter - it was hard getting the different voices just right.  
> I promise things will look up for Benna in the end - she's just going through a bit of a rough patch.
> 
> Many thanks as always to the lovely Fire_Kitten who's my sounding board, fellow Cullen appreciator and who has endless patience with me sending her tiny snippets and then discussing minute details looooooong into the night. We are bad girls when it comes to sleeping at normal people times.
> 
> I bought some mead in honour of Benna's first Thedas night out with friends. I get the feeling that mead may be involved in all the funniest chapters...
> 
> xx

The first mage to arrive was Solas. He crept in so quietly that Benna almost missed his arrival. He stood silent in the middle of the room, leaning on his staff and staring at her. Benna knew enough about mage politics to understand the implicit threat that staff held. Solas was unsure of her. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes, out of patience with the world. 

"Let's get on with it, Solas." She said in Elven. Ignoring his flinch, she gestured to herself, still propped against the pillows. "Examine me."

Something flashed across his face, but it was gone before she could categorise it. He nodded and cast a spell. It flashed blue as it enveloped her. Benna flinched as a sensation similar to pins and needles swept across her skin, but it was gone in an instant. With a flick of his fingers, Solas cast something else that darted to her forehead.

"I looked for you in the Fade," he said quietly. "I wanted to see how you were, if I could help there. But there was nothing. Your spirit was absent."

Unwilling to enter into that conversation, Benna shrugged and concentrated on the spell. She could feel it in her mind. Her natural instinct was to fight against it, but this was part of her assessment. She struggled to remain open.

"Why can I not find you? I searched for hours." Solas' voice was a little louder, gaining confidence as she remained passive. "I have never seen magic such as you possess."

Still, Benna said nothing, her brow creasing. Surely the spell didn't need to delve this deep? 

"What are you?" Solas demanded, his straight brows compressed into a frown. The spell dug deeper, causing a sharp pain to run through her temples.

"Enough!" Suddenly, she didn't trust him. Benna called on her own magic, burning the spell away. Solas stumbled back a step. Pain flashed across his features. They stared at each other for several seconds. "How dare you invade my mind?" She hissed angrily.

"What are you?" It was a whisper. She glared at him, daring him to try again. He would get no answers from her - even if she had them. Solas straightened. "I... I will report to the council that you are free from possession." She nodded curtly, and he left - quickly.

\---------- 

In contrast to Solas, Vivienne's entrance was as flamboyant as Orlesian good taste would allow. Meaning hopelessly tacky and gauche. Benna had lived in Paris for a while as a child. She was not intimidated. She entertained herself making snide comments in her head, as Vivienne strode in, high heels clacking and cleavage flashing. Benna suspected that the woman actually put glitter on her boobs. Why?

Vivienne made sure to turn at the door and say loudly, "In a moment, darling. I just have to do this small inspection for the council and I'll be right with you." With a wave of her beringed fingers, she closed the door to the small cabin and turned to Benna with a small smile. 

As much as she wanted to be catty, Benna had to admit that the mage was gorgeous. Her skin was a shade lighter than Josephine's coffee, her lips full and her eyes large and lustrous. She was unusually tall, made taller in her heels, and slender. But her outfit was far too gaudy for Paris, and the lack of warmth in her smile repelled.

"So, my dear, how are you feeling?" Vivienne asked after a moment. She had been studying Benna as well. Not that she cared; she knew that her hair was probably a tangled mess after all of this, and she was in her nightdress. She shrugged in answer to the woman's question. She just didn't care what she looked like or what Vivienne thought of her.

At her silence, Vivienne raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "Sulking does you no favours, darling. We must all bow to the council's wishes, mustn't we?"

_Perhaps you do._ Benna thought cooly, giving Vivienne a smile as devoid of warmth as the one she was receiving. "If you would, Madame?" She gestured to herself the same way as she had done with Solas. Vivienne's face betrayed none of her displeasure, but her demeanour was cold as she sat in one of the chairs and cast a spell. This one felt like Benna was surrounded by a cool wind.

"What, exactly did you cast? It must have been powerful to drain you so completely. Perhaps if we discuss it, we can prevent this from happening again. You mustn't exhaust yourself, my dear; it ages one terribly." Ah. Here was the prodding Benna had expected. In no mood to cross lances with the First Enchanter, she merely shrugged and was rewarded when a tiny frown appeared between those eyebrows. 

"Come now, we needn't be in opposition; I despise those mages who hoard their magical knowledge like a miser with his gold. It only leads to more ignorance in the world, and I think we have quite enough of that as it is."

Benna raised an eyebrow herself. She had no doubt that Vivienne had quite a few of her own secrets to keep, but she didn't rise to the bait. She kept her silence as Madame cast a few more spells. Rising, she turned to the door, pausing for a final parting shot. "Don't believe for a moment that your... _friendship_ with the Herald gives you instant acceptance, my dear. People are right to be suspicious of an apostate with secrets."

Benna gave Vivienne the most insincere, sugary smile she could manage. "Thank you for your kind words, Madame. I'll be sure to give them _just_ as much thought as they deserve."

Vivienne blinked, inclined her head and left, calling out to someone she apparently recognised before the door had even closed behind her. Benna collapsed back against the pillows. This was exhausting. Hopefully, Mia's assessment would be less fraught.

\---------- 

Mia was the first person that day who had actually knocked at the door. When Benna called to come in, she entered quietly and without fanfare, dressed in her healer's apron and a dark grey dress. Benna smiled, already soothed by the woman's quiet presence. They hadn't spoken often, but she had found Mia to be receptive but quiet. Coupled with Benna's initial shyness, they had usually only managed the bare minimum of conversation before one of the more boisterous personalities intruded.

"How are you feeling?" Mia asked quietly. 

Benna sighed. "Drained. But I think that's because of the people I've had to talk to more than the magic."

Mia gave her a sympathetic smile, blue eyes flashing. "Madame de Fer has already sent for books from her estate, researching your spell. Apparently, our library here is... inadequate."

Benna groaned and waved Mia into a chair. "I was hoping that this whole thing would go away soon and be forgotten. Do you think there's some kind of spell that would turn me invisible?" Mia let out a quiet laugh and Benna grinned back. "At least I'll be leaving soon; hopefully everyone will forget about me when I'm on the road."

Surprise flashed across Mia's face, but she didn't ask any questions except "May I examine you? I was one of the healers called to care for you and Shae, so I'll have a better idea of how you're recovering." Benna nodded and placed her hands in Mia's outstretched ones, bracing herself for the unpleasant sensation. To her surprise, only a gentle warmth rolled through her with Mia's magic. She relaxed; this was much better than Vivienne. She wasn't even going to _think_ about Solas until she felt better.

"Will Shea be alright? Your professional opinion." Mia looked across at the little girl, who had barely twitched during all the coming and going.

"She should be fine. I healed the cracked rib, but apart from that, you did a remarkably thorough job of healing her. Her mental state, however..."

Cracked rib? Benna didn't remember feeling that. She sighed. "Yes, I hope that this incident doesn't make her afraid of horses, or affect her spirit, she's such fun to be around."

Mia nodded, her magic withdrawing from Benna. "She rules over the mage children like a little queen. I'm sure with your help, and that of her adoring subjects, she'll make a full recovery." She turned back to Benna, a small frown appearing. "You used your magic today." 

Benna winced and nodded reluctantly, wondering how on earth Mia had known that. "Yes. Someone tried to invade my mind."

Mia's mouth dropped open in shock, before she shook her head slightly. "Still, it was... unwise. You could have hurt yourself."

"I know," Benna admitted. "I felt it, once I let go of the magic. But it needed to be done." Her free hands found her hair and, yes, it was indeed a birds nest. Her fingers got tangled instantly. They sat in silence for a minute or two, before Mia offered to brush her hair. Eagerly, she agreed and they sat, enjoying each other's silent company. Eventually, Benna gained the courage to ask, "How is everyone else taking it? You mentioned Vivienne..."

Mia let out a little huff. "She is telling everyone how the council trusts her enough to make an assessment of you, and how much you confided in her. Apparently, you're going to take all her advice."

Benna laughed out loud at that. "I barely spoke to Madame. She plays politics with the best of them. But what about the others?"

Mia chuckled. "Some are excited about the new magic. Others are worried. Elsin is promoting his 'friendship' with you to anyone who will listen. No one hates you, if that's what you're asking."

Instead of answering, Benna just hummed an acknowledgement. Mia's careful brushwork was making her sleepy. She felt the healer's gentle fingers gathering her curls into a braid as Mia murmured, "You did a marvellous thing. Most mages could barely heal a cut. Don't let the petty take away from that. You have friends."

Benna turned and wriggled down into the bed. "Thank you, Mia. For everything. Could you spread the word that I'm not up for yet more visitors today? I think I need to sleep." Mia smiled back at her and nodded, pulling the blankets up to Benna's shoulders. Her eyes closed, and she didn't even remember the quiet healer leaving before she fell asleep. 


	29. In Which Hunter Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY GUYS
> 
> The world suddenly got busy and then honestly I lost my writing mojo for a little while. I did write a small drabble that's in my TFOF one shots - go have a read I need some fan input about whether it should become cannon. 
> 
> Anyway, here's a short chapter while I try and get myself back to writing and not just reading. 
> 
> XxX

Benna woke at home hoping for a quiet day. Sometimes she missed the calm of true sleep; she was mentally and emotionally drained from the meetings with the mages, and she was having more and more trouble separating her two lives. She would wander through the house and expect to find Shae and Mal watching cartoons in the living room, or expect to see Hunter in the Singing Maiden, complaining about the beer. She'd think she recognised faces from Haven in the endless stream of customers, and start to call out to them. Just the simple fact of having two lives was enough to make her head spin, let alone compartmentalising them properly. 

And, thankfully, the day was quiet. Nothing truly stressful occurred; it was all run-of-the-mill stresses, easily managed. A creepy man on the bus, staring at her in a way meant to make her uncomfortable. When she demanded to know, with a disgusted curl of her lip, just what exactly he was staring at, he winced at her volume and looked away. With every woman on the bus giving him identical glares. 

A call from her team interrupted her lunch break. When she got to the shop floor, Karen was nearly in tears as a customer berated her, questioning her intelligence, parentage, job and general place in the world. As the manager, Benna was able to step in and ask that the woman leave. She would never understand why some people considered retail staff to be somehow less than human. When the woman refused to leave, Benna nodded politely, called her Ma'am and told her that she would call the police if she didn't go. Karen didn't deserve to be treated like that, ever. Let alone for a computer error that she had nothing to do with.

With Karen and Tom supporting Benna, the woman blustered a bit more, spouting off several swear words and threats before she left of her own accord. Benna gave the woman a sugary smile and immediately informed the security team that the woman was not welcome back. Abusing staff members wasn't tolerated. 

Leaving work she stumbled on the curb, narrowly avoiding being hit by a passing car. The adrenaline and heart-pounding fear at the near-miss gave her the courage to shout back at the driver of the car, who had slammed their brakes on and got out, their own fear transmuting to aggression. The blossoming argument was cut short when Benna spotted her bus home crawling up the hill, and with a final scowl she turned on her heel and left.

She was able to relax at home, settling her nerves with the calming routine of making dinner. The simple pasta dish always made her feel happy, and Hunter enjoyed it too. They had a congenial meal, chatting about his work in the office and the new interns who had joined. Hunter was a little scornful of their mistakes but admitted that they mostly did good work. When guided. 

The two of them were just settling down to relax for the evening when Hunter surprised her. "I was thinking about what you said before," He began. "And you're right; things between us have been a little off recently." Surprised, she looked up at him, a hopeful smile spreading across her face before her doubts could smother it. He smiled back, just a small lift of his lips, but it was more than she'd seen for weeks.

"So we're taking a long weekend away next week." He finished happily. Benna's heart sank. She didn't want to tell him no, but...

"Hunter, I can't. I have work..."

"No, you don't. I already called and arranged it with your boss."

"Oh..." Benna wasn't sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, it was sweet that he'd gone to all the trouble and arranged it for her. On the other... she was still new to her role, and taking a day off not even two months in wouldn't look good. But it was already done. She managed a smile. "Where are we going?"

Hunter shook his head, still smiling, proud. "It's a surprise. I'll pack for you. You just need to be ready to go on Friday." She smiled and nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. She couldn't help comparing Hunter to Cullen. Cullen had spent several hours planning their trip with her, carefully explaining the logistics and calculations, showing her maps and discussing routes. She knew it wasn't the same thing at all, but still...

She shook off her thoughts and did her best to smile, to appreciate what Hunter was doing. She _was_ honestly glad that he wanted to try and make their relationship better than it had been. She was worried about them.


	30. In Which A Horse Brings Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 chapters woooooah and we haven't even gone to recruit the mages yet! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos/comments/subscribed I feast on your love.  
> No, seriously, thank you - I love reading all your comments.
> 
> XxX

Pausing outside the little hut, Cullen took a deep breath. He could hear Benna and Evelynne chattering in Elven inside. He only caught a few words. " _....safal...tel'nual... Vin, Evvy_!" It sounded like a very friendly argument, though he couldn't know about what. Perhaps he'd try to learn Elven...

Shaking off his musings, he knocked on the wooden door gently. At the Herald's call to enter, he pushed gently so it swung open, leaving him framed in the doorway. "Cullen!" Evelynne greeted him cheerfully. She and Benna were sat on the bed, Evelynne brushing Benna's hair as they chatted. The boy was nowhere to be seen, but Shae was still sleeping. Cullen was a little worried about her, but he believed the healers when they said that she just needed time and sleep to recover. 

Evelynne smiled and stood, drawing his attention back to her as he stepped into the room. "Did you need something, Cullen?"

"Oh! Well, I was just coming to check on the ladies..."

Benna sighed noisily. "I'm _fine_! Or I would be if I was allowed to actually get out of bed!"

"Benna, you're still not back to normal! You need to be careful or you'll hurt yourself worse."

The blonde woman levelled a glare at her friend, folding her arms. Cullen was sincerely glad that it wasn't him on the receiving end of that look. But Evelynne merely folded her arms in mimicry and stared back, raising an eyebrow. Cullen glanced between them, but neither broke the silent battle, the atmosphere in the little house turning frosty. "Well, I could..." he blurted and then trailed off, unsure of what he was going to say. Both women turned to look at him and he winced, trying to control the blush that crept up his neck. "I could... escort you, if you wanted to take a walk? Just to get outside?"

"Yes!" Benna flung back the furs that covered her lap and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Evelynne held out a hand to try and stop her, which she ignored, putting her feet on the floor and standing. Evelynne let out a frustrated huff and caught Benna when she wobbled on her legs. Cullen found himself standing with one arm out, even though he was far too far away to catch her if she did fall. He dropped his arm quickly, turning to find Benna's coat from the hooks near the door.

"Nothing taxing!" Evelynne instructed as Benna caught her balance. "You aren't to run, or move too fast, or carry anything. If you get dizzy, or tired, sit down and rest and someone will come to bring you back." Benna rolled her eyes as her friend continued to lecture, smiling at Cullen in thanks as he handed her the coat. Slipping her feet into a pair of short boots, she sighed and turned to the elf.

"I'm not exactly going on a hike to the Hinterlands! I'm just going for a stroll around the village before I go crazy." 

Evelynne smiled. "I know _ma falon_. I just worry."

"I know," Benna agreed, reaching to touch her friend's cheek. "But I'll be fine. You should go check in with Josephine - didn't she have some noble pontificating himself to pieces?"

Evelynne huffed but nodded. She gave both of them a final warning glance before she slipped around Cullen and out of the door, heading towards the Chantry and Josephine's office. Which left Benna and Cullen staring at each other. Suddenly aware that this was the first time they'd been able to speak in private since the accident, Cullen shifted his weight.

"I just wanted to say... uh, well, sorry for the inspection." Benna frowned as he spoke. "I did tell them that you weren't a danger but... well, Leliana isn't one to allow others to do her thinking for her, and..." He trailed off, gesturing helplessly. "So... I'm sorry that you had to go through that. And... I hope that you'll stay with m-the Inquisition." He finally dared to meet her eyes. She wasn't smiling, but the frown was gone.

"I know it wasn't your fault, Cullen." She finally said. "But I've been mistrusted and poked and prodded from the start. I was serious about leaving, if my words and actions aren't enough to convince people."

"They are." He assured her adamantly. "Leliana is just... she was the Left Hand. She spends her life looking for plots and assassins. You... confuse her, and she doesn't like that."

"I find that I don't care what the Nightingale likes or doesn't like, as long as she leaves me and the children alone." Benna replied tartly. "Now, are we going for a walk or not?" She strode past Cullen, pulling the door open and stepping out into the street, leaving him to trail behind her like a lost duckling.

Turning back from closing the door behind them, he found Benna standing in a patch of sunlight, her face tipped up to the warmth and a small smile on her face. He just watched her for a moment, eyes tracing the shape of her face, admiring the glow of her skin and the flashes of colour in her curls, which flowed down her back. His fingers suddenly itched to touch her hair, and find out if it was as soft as it looked. She took a deep breath, her smile growing, and he suddenly realised how pale she had looked, back in the cabin. When she opened her eyes, they flashed gold for a moment, before returning to the rich navy he'd come to know. Even the colour of her eyes was deeper than just moments before.

He stood there marvelling, until the corner of her mouth twitched up. "You're staring." She murmured. Cullen came back to himself with a start, and offered her his arm.

"My apologies. Shall we?"

"We shall." She took his arm, tucking her hand into his elbow and letting him lead her. They walked in silence for several minutes, and Cullen led them outside the gates, around the edges of the training ground. He could feel the awareness of their presence rippling through the troops, but no one stared openly, and no one approached, so perhaps his... _discussion_ this morning with the other former Templars had bourn fruit. 

As he led her around the back of the tents, between them and the wall to keep her out of the wind, he could feel her thinking. "How bad is it, Cullen?" She finally asked. At his puzzled look, she expanded. "I know that healing Shae will have some consequences, beyond what the advisors wanted. So, how bad is it?"

"Ah. Well..." He inwardly debated about how much to tell her. "The former Templars among the troops were... nervous about your abilities, but I've already spoken to them. When I informed them that I'd already seen that magic from you.."

"Wait, you have? When?" She looked shocked.

"When we were sparring. Your eyes changed, remember? And you never have bruises, even though training should leave you with _some_ , no matter how careful you were. I think you've been healing yourself without knowing it. Shae was just a rather... spectacular escalation."

"... Oh." They fell silent, continuing to walk as she mulled that over. The turned right, following the wall towards the gates that led down the mountain. A few nugs scampered away from the noise of their footsteps. 

Cullen cleared his throat. "It's good that you're feeling better; we've had some news from the Fallow Mire, and the Herald has asked us to stop there before we arrive at Therinfal. It means that we'll have to leave a few days earlier than we planned."

Benna's eyebrows creased, but she kept her eyes on the ground, so he couldn't see the expression in them. "What's happened there?"

"A troop of scouts has gone missing. Josephine's local contact says that there's an Avvar clan who have settled there, so it's probable that the barbarians have something to do with it. But we can't leave our people missing, especially not with reported rifts in the area. I know we can't do anything about the rifts, but we can hopefully find our people." Cullen realised that he'd begun to repeat himself, and closed his mouth.

Benna took her time responding. "And how long do you expect this to take? I'm unhappy as it is to leave the children without me or Evelynne..."

"I expect it to add no more than two or three days to the trip. A day from the main routes, a day there and a day back. And I promise the children will be well taken care of. The Chantry sisters..."

"Yes, it's the Chantry that I'm unhappy about. Have you not noticed that the Sisters and their supporters have been encouraging the situation between the mages and Templars? In all the... altercations I've seen, the Chantry has been the instigator. I've even seen some of them pushing and poking to extend an argument! And with you and the Herald out of Haven..."

Cullen's eyebrows winged up. She was right; he _hadn't_ noticed. But now that he thought about it, she was right. Almost all of the arguments and fights he personally had broken up had had a Chantry member involved, even if they weren't fighting. Most often that ass Roderick, of course, but several of the Sisters had been there often enough that he recognised their faces. He'd assumed that they were trying to calm the situation, but if what Benna said was true...

"If you prefer, you can lodge the children with my soldiers. Many of our younger recruits have siblings their age..."

She shook her head firmly. "I'm leaving them with the mages. They're well known there, and have friends among the apprentices. I trust the mages to keep them safe."

He nodded in agreement, but couldn't avoid the sting of that implication. She trusted the mages to keep her children safe. But she _didn't_ trust him or his soldiers. They walked in silence for several minutes, turning and retracing their steps away from the gate. The longer they were outside, the better Benna seemed to feel. She regained some bounce in her step, and her eyes were more lively. But she hadn't let go of his arm. 

They were halfway back across the training grounds when she suddenly stopped and asked, "So, when are we due to leave?" 

Startled, he pulled away from his thoughts and stammered an answer. "Well, uh, as long as you are strong enough... Three days?"

She let out a peculiar mirthless chuckle, murmuring something in Elven. " _Va'vun'in_. Of course." Cullen resolved to learn Elven as soon as possible. Already making a list of books he could consult, he gently pulled her into a walk again. "Let's go check on Shae. I must admit, I've been a little worried, but the healers..."

\---------------------- 

Shae finally stirred a few hours later. The tunic Benna had been mending fell from her hand as she scrambled across the little cabin, stumbling on her still weak legs and landing on her knees. Breathlessly she reached out to touch Shae's cheek, watching as her eyes finally fluttered open and focussed on her own. She gave a gasping sob and burst into tears, reaching out for Benna, who gently gathered her into her arms, murmuring comforting nonsense.

They remained like that for several minutes, neither of them feeling the need to speak. Eventually, Shae sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Is Lady alright?" Her voice was quiet, still clogged with tears. Benna looked down at her in confusion. "Lady... you mean the horse?" At Shae's nod, Benna closed her eyes and prayed for patience. "The horse is fine. She kicked apart her stall but Evvy calmed her down. But what about you? Do you hurt anywhere? Feel anything strange?" Shae shook her head decisively, but dropped her gaze, reaching for the toy horse that Mal seemed convinced had healing powers. He tucked it into bed with anyone he thought needed help.

Feeling that perhaps the little girl needed space, Benna began to loosen her arms. Shae panicked, grabbing on to her wrist and lifting pleading eyes to her. Benna smiled, but remained silent as she climbed into the bed with Shae, snuggling her into her lap and wrapping her arms around both Shae and the toy horse. The little girl leaned her head against Benna's chest with a contented sigh, adjusting her grip to Benna's hand and intertwining their fingers. No words were necessary. Benna hummed their lullaby quietly, concentrating on the warm body she held in her arms. Shae gradually relaxed, her eyes closing and her breath deepening as she drifted into sleep. 

\----------------- 

Shae didn't stir again until Evelynne returned to the little house, breaking the comforting silence made by tiny noises. Benna smiled and gestured carefully for calm; she didn't want Evvy's natural exuberance to excite Shae too much. Keeping her voice low as Shae blinked sleepily, she asked Evelynne, "How was the noble?"

Taking her cue from Benna's demeanour, Evelynne responded equally quietly and calmy. "As demanding as they all are. He wanted silk sheets and a roast partridge for dinner. I told him he was having ram hunted by me, _personally_." 

"Lucky him." Benna smiled down at Shae, running a hand over her hair. "We'll need to think of some food for ourselves soon."

Evvy sat down in the chair set beside the bed, reaching out to cup the little girl's cheek. " _Da'lan_ , I think we need to talk about what happened. I know it's your job to take care of the horses, but when something like that happens, you need to get away. At least until you're bigger. You were hurt very badly, _vherlan_ , and you were very lucky."

Shae nodded, but her eyebrows scrunched together. "Evvy..." She coughed, her dry throat unhappy with speech. She drank deeply from the cup Evelynne poured for her, then tried again. "I knew everything would be alright. You an' Benna were there." Benna's heart bruised itself against her ribs as it reached out for the little girl.

"We won't always be there, _vherlan_. What if we'd been on the other side of Haven? You just need to be more careful." Evvy held Shae's eyes until she nodded, then swooped in to lay a kiss on her cheek. Standing, she stretched and announced, "Right! Good. I'm starving - I'll go see if Flissa has any more of that wonderful chicken soup..." The other two watched as Evvy danced off to the tavern, stopping a scout along the way. Benna couldn't think of anything to add to Evvy's speech, so she stayed with Shae, reaching for a brush to restore her hair to order. She was looking forward to having the evening meal with her little family together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations
> 
>  
> 
> Safal - Horse
> 
> Tel'nual - Not hurt/Doesn't hurt
> 
> Vin - Yes  
> (In case you were wondering, Evvy and Benna were arguing about whether she could go riding that day)
> 
> Ma falon - My friend
> 
> Va'vun'in - Fifth day/Friday
> 
> Da'lan - Female child
> 
> Vherlan - Female kitten
> 
>  
> 
> All Elven comes from the amazing Project Elven here on AO3


	31. In Which Lace Convinces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Just in case you missed it with AO3 having some issues last week, I did actually post chapter 30. Hope you enjoy it and this one. Thanks as always to my wonderful Kitten for helping me with this (Though mostly it was my self-confidence this week)
> 
> Loves
> 
> Xx
> 
> (I love Scout Harding)

Benna stood at the edge of the camp and stared into the murky and stinking fog of the Fallow Mire. She'd been hoping for something more... cheerful. This was more like something from a horror film. Still, it suited her mood. The cloying mud and will o' the whisps were a perfect metaphor for her long weekend with Hunter. By whatever twist of fate, she had been leaving Haven the same day Hunter took her on the surprise trip. Evvy and the children had waved her off, cheerfully promising to see her soon. She had been grumpy, unhappy about leaving them and being dragged into a diplomatic situation she knew nothing about. And perhaps a little nervous about being with only soldiers for all that time; she was the only mage in the party, and she didn't know how they'd respond to her firework show. Evvy had grinned and promised to get her new socks if she fell in the bog, Shae had given her a shy kiss on the cheek and Mal had pressed a 'magic rock' into her palm, promising that it would keep her company on the road. She still had it now, woven with some leather strips to make a necklace. 

At first, the weekend had been lovely. They'd driven for a few hours that evening to reach a beautiful hotel out in the country. Their room had been clean, the bed comfortable and the restaurant menu sounded delicious. Hunter had shown her a list of the spa facilities and insisted on booking her in for several treatments. For the whole of the first night, she had felt cherished and spoiled.

She shook off her thoughts and went to join the scouts and soldiers around their fire, nodding to those on watch. A sudden thought struck her, and she sped up, grabbing a shield on her way past. The stew wasn't King's Mercy, but it was hot and as tasty as possible, considering the surroundings. She collected six bowls of stew, carefully balancing them on the shield, along with the pan-fried bread Scout Harding had made. Walking slowly, testing each step, she turned back to the closest scout on watch, smiling when she moved up next to him. "Here. I brought you dinner." The scout looked startled but smiled back.

"Thank you, my lady. But you didn't have to."

"I know. I wanted to." Benna had long since given up telling them that she wasn't a lady. Apparently, Cullen's word meant more than hers. She smiled at the scout again and moved on to the next scout, handing out bowls and bread to each, before returning the shield and finally settling down on the log next to Cullen. It had become her accustomed place. He glanced up at her and gave her half a smile, before returning to his serious contemplation of the embers. Unwilling to talk, she applied herself to her own bowl, listening in to the banter and speculation around the fire, somewhat subdued due to the Commander's presence. 

Eventually, her attention wandered, and she returned to contemplating Hunter. The Saturday had been lovely initially. They'd eaten a leisurely breakfast followed by a walk around the impressive gardens and orchards of the stately home-turned-hotel. She'd had an appointment with the spa for a facial and massage after lunch, Hunter insisting that he'd be fine and would enjoy the games room while she was pampered. She'd had mixed feelings; it was supposed to be a time for them to reconnect, but he was pushing her away. Yet he clearly wanted to spoil her and give her a lovely weekend. She'd come back to the room glowing and smelling delicious.

Cullen shifted and finally turned to her. "We should discuss tomorrow." She nodded and stood with him, moving over to the command table that had been set up next to requisitions. "Lace says this... Hand of Korth has captured our people and is demanding that the Herald meet him. The Avvar believe that there are many gods and that Evelynne is the chosen champion or avatar of one, so Korth wishes to pit his god against ours."

"But Evvy isn't here." Benna replied quietly. "She's already on her way to Redcliff, and the date for her meeting with the Magister has been set."

"But," A lightly-accented voice from behind them interjected, "Not many people know the Herald by sight, yet." Lace Harding strolled up to join them. Benna liked the pretty dwarf woman, who was one of Leliana's most accomplished scouts. She was helpful without being obsequious, cheerful without being grating and a crack shot with a bow. It had been Harding who had given Benna a pack that first day in the Hinterlands.

"What do you mean?" Cullen asked her, turning slightly to include her in their planning.

"What I mean is, no one knows much about the Herald yet, and I'm willing to bet that the Avvar know even less. Benna, you can call fire now, right?" Puzzled, Benna nodded and conjured a small ball of fire into her palm. Lace nodded. "Right, so can you make it green?" That was harder. Benna's brow creased as she concentrated, her fire flickering between red, gold and blue before settling on an unsteady greenish.

"Good enough. So you can pretend to be Evelynne and get our people back."

The fire died. "What? No! I'm not an elf! And I can't close rifts - they'll see right through it."

"And it puts Lady Benna in considerable danger." Cullen frowned.

"No, listen," Harding insisted, "We can't get to our people without alerting the barbarians, and they insist that the Herald is the only one they'll allow to get close. If you and another few soldiers go with her, Commander, you can keep her safe and some of the scouts might be able to get close enough during the distraction to rescue the others."

"Their base only has one exit. I'm not happy about her walking into a trap."

Benna was getting a little frustrated with being spoken about as if she wasn't there. "Will I have to fight him?"

"It's likely," Cullen said, his frown getting deeper. "As a mage, you're most powerful at range, but it's unlikely the barbarians will allow that. And you have no combat experience."

"So take some good shieldmen with you to act as bodyguards." urged Harding. "Look, I've been thinking about this for days, and this is the best solution I could find without waiting for the Herald to arrive. And we all could have caught the plague by then, on our way to joining the undead that are out there."

Benna shuddered. She'd been trying very hard to _not_ think about the plague-ridden undead lurking in the water. And now she was thinking about it. Urgh. Cullen fell silent, obviously unable to argue but still not happy. The silence stretched. "I'll do it." Benna sighed. At their surprised looks, she explained "We can't leave our people here, and we have a meeting to get to. So we'll try your idea, Scout Harding." Cullen looked thunderous, but turned away, muttering about deciding the best team. Benna nodded and left him to it, returning to the little tent she was sharing with several female soldiers. She wanted some time to think.

But when she lay down, it wasn't the undead or the Avvar that filled her mind. Hunter hadn't been in their room when she returned after her massage. She hadn't been concerned and had got dressed to go down for dinner while she waited. Now she knew that she should have at least wondered what he was doing. He'd avoided her kiss when he finally returned, going directly to shower ready for dinner. He told her he'd been in the hotel's gym.

Deliberately, she turned her mind away and focused on Cullen. She'd been upset with him when they left. He'd implied on their little walk that the only reason he wanted her well was for the mission. He hadn't asked her how she was feeling at all. And yes, she'd said she was feeling better, but she might have been more honest with him than Evvy about how weak she still was at the time. But she'd enjoyed the camaraderie of the road with him and the soldiers; it made a nice change to be absorbed into a group who demanded that she did nothing except provide company on the road, care for Nunis and take a turn on watch. She'd enjoyed being treated as competent, instead of a silly girl as Hunter sometimes did. And she'd gradually forgiven Cullen, without him ever knowing that she was hurt.

Her mind oscillating between the two men, Evvy and the Avvar she was due to meet tomorrow, it was a long time before Benna finally slept.


	32. In Which Cullen Roars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah! Fallow Mire! I always hated this place I get so jumpy lol.
> 
> I had a terrible thing happen this week - the file with MY ENTIRE WORK got corrupted!  
> Thankfully the absolutely wonderful Fire_Kitten and her OH Flame_Cat (that username is totally made up) made me a replacement from everything I've posted on here. Before I could fully dissolve into depression and grief for my lost writing. So all my loves and cookies and rainbows to Fire_Kitten <3 <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy a taste of the real Commander Cullen.
> 
> (Will the Real Commander, please stand up?)
> 
> Also, Archive points to those who spot the Skyrim reference in this chapter)
> 
> Xx

The walk through the bog was torturous. Every step was a battle; with the sticky mud that sucked at your boots as if it were trying to pull you into the mire, with the darkness and stinking fog that formed an almost impenetrable veil, with your own body as you fought to keep every step as quiet as possible. Towards her teammates, Benna felt a strange mix of hatred and love. Hatred, because any and all of them could disturb the water at any moment. Love, because they would fight with her. God knew, they were the only living things for miles. Her entire body was tense, ears alert for any tiny sound, eyes straining for any hint of movement. She held her breath until she was lightheaded, her toes cramped from tiptoeing. Even a whisper seemed louder than a shout in this horrible place. 

The entire region was flat, filled with dark, shallow water interspersed with muddy islands and hulking rock formations. Empty and half burnt cabins lurked here and there, their doors barred from the outside. They told a terrible tale of plague and desperation. The occasional abandoned windmill, sails still creaking in the tiny breezes high above the fog, loomed out of the murk. Even the trees looked like hands grasping for something to pull them from the bog. 

At some point, an attempt had been made to traverse the Mire by means of a wooden boardwalk. The planks wove between islands and rocks, but like everything else here, it was long abandoned. Much of the wood had rotted, leaving them to try to jump the gaps to avoid the water, which was a nerve-wracking experience on the wet and slimy planks. 

The others had it worse. Benna was wearing light leather mage armour, reinforced in strategic places with silverite plates. Cullen and the other soldiers wore plate, heavy and cumbersome. Not to mention loud. She winced every time someone clanked. Once, Alrich kicked a pebble. The entire party froze as it _plunked_ into the water, sending ripples out in ominous circles. Benna's gaze flickered from point to point, fearfully watching for something, _anything_ to happen.

After several tense, terrifying moments, they relaxed a hair. Cullen turned to the unfortunate soldier with a scowl. "Don't do that again."

"Nosir, sorry sir." They crept onwards. Disaster struck, in the form of Alrich. The poor man, though Benna was thinking far from charitable thoughts at that moment, tripped over something and fell face first into the water. He made a huge splash and clatter and immediately the undead started to rise. Cullen's roar echoed across the waters. "Alrich! If you can't keep watch on your own fucking feet why the hell did we bring you?" 

And just like that, Benna gained combat experience. It was an honour she would have rather avoided.

In the scant seconds before the fight began, she cast as many barriers as she could, including on the unfortunate Alrich, still struggling to rise with his breastplate full of water and pondweed. She threw fire at a corpse raising a bow before Dirge caught it with a grappling hook and dragged the flaming thing towards him. She staggered another taking aim at Cullen, before the melee was too confused for her to really trust her aim. She cast and recast her barriers, throwing fire as often as she could, until she suddenly found herself sprawled in the mud, a dull ache making itself known between her shoulder blades. Scrabbling around, knuckles clenched tight around her staff, she spotted the archer lurching out of the mist behind them. 

"Behind us!" She hit it in what was left of its face, ordering her stomach to stay where it was when she got her first decent look at what they were fighting. 

Up until now, she'd been able to avoid thinking about what they were doing. The jerky, unnatural movements and creepy silence from the zombies had allowed her to remain detached. But close up, she could see the remnants of who this corpse had been. They'd had long hair, now matted and filled with pond scum. The flesh was mostly gone from their frame, but she could make out two deflated bags of skin, indicating that this horror had once been a woman. The face was almost gone, exposed teeth and bone locked in a death rictus visible through the places where smiles once lived. The eyes were the worst. The lids and soft parts had long been eaten away by fish or other water creatures, and the empty sockets were filled with a malevolent blue spark that focused on her with an undeniable hunger. The fact that the whole thing was now on fire didn't help at all.

As it raised the bow again, Benna scrambled to her feet. She somehow still had a white-knuckled grip on her staff. Cullen's training echoed through her mind: _‘The best way to take out an archer is at close range, if you can do it fast.’_ So she did the only thing she could think of. She charged it, twisting from her waist as she brought the bladed end of her staff around. Where always before, it had ended with a block or light tap, this time her swing ended with the blade halfway through the things neck. It screeched, staggering Benna, but she wrenched the blade free and chopped at the neck, every zombie film she had ever seen prompting her to try to sever the spine. Finally, the head flopped to the side, held on by a few rags of muscle. The corpse fell ungracefully, her blade still embedded in what was left of the neck. She yanked it free. 

She stood there, staring, gasping for breath, until a rough hand grabbed her arm. She wheeled around. Cullen looked her over with impersonal eyes, checking that she was uninjured. She gulped and did the same for him; most of the ick that was splattered over his body just seemed to be swamp slime - no red stains. Except for a small nick on one ear, which she immediately reached out to heal, thanking Mia for taking the time to teach her a little before they left. 

The flare of gold seemed to bring his mind back from wherever it had been. "Keep watch," he ordered her quietly, only stepping away once she nodded and turned to face the deceptively calm waters, her staff in her hand. He walked away, presumably checking on the other members of their party before his aggression found its target. Instead of a roar, his voice sank to a menacing growl as he let loose a long, eloquent, expletive-filled list of everything that was wrong with the world, and, in particular, the bit of it that held Alrich. Benna was particularly impressed with "Son of a Blight-infested druffalo with four left feet." 

When Cullen had been growling for more than thirty seconds without once repeating himself, Benna turned slightly toward him and interrupted quietly, "Can we please talk about his shortcomings later? We have larger concerns right now, Commander." Cullen stuttered to a stop, gave her a glare that could peel paint, but nodded. They moved on, Alrich giving her a look of fervent thanks.

\----------

“Is that it?”

At Cullen's nod, Benna turned back to contemplate the ruined keep that loomed out of the mists. Its tower was crumbling, chunks missing from the walls like teeth from a drunkard’s mouth. The only possible approach was an open pathway with dry stone walls, waist high, with no cover from the clearly visible Avvar archers other than the darkness and fog that swirled around them. 

As the more experienced members of the group evaluated their options, Benna found her mind wandering. They'd had a few battles with living people on the way - Avvar guarding the boardwalk. She thought she'd done alright, panicking several when she set them alight. But it was very different fighting actual people. Her reactions were much less instinctive, she had to consciously choose to harm another living, thinking person. It went against everything she had thought she believed. But she was fighting for her life, and Cullen's life. And the lives of the kidnapped Inquisition soldiers. She deliberately stopped thinking about it. 

Unfortunately, her thoughts went to Hunter. She'd managed to avoid thinking about it up until now, but the ominous menace of the marsh superseded that desire. She'd awoken on the Sunday to find him gone from their bed. The mattress had been cold when she snaked a hand over to his side. When she looked at the time, it was 6:30 in the morning. What on earth could he be doing? 

She checked the bathroom, thinking that he might have got ill during the night. Nothing. In the main room, she turned in circles, unsure. His clothes and toiletries were still there, so he hadn't just left and abandoned her here. She debated the wisdom of leaving the room to look for him, but ultimately decided against it. No need for a scene in the lobby. In the end, she returned to bed, hoping that she could sleep a little more and he'd be back when she woke up. 

She came back to herself with a start when Dirge tapped her on the arm. Cullen looked around the group, scowling at all of them impartially. “This is going to be tough. The Avvar are all trained warriors, and we have no real way of knowing how many of them there are. Scout Harding estimates that there could be as many as twelve. I'm hoping that when they see the ‘Herald’ approaching, they'll let us pass, but we can't count on that. Alrich, you and I will play bodyguard to our mage here, and Dirge and Benson will engage. It's going to be a bloody mess. And if you trip over your own feet, I will personally hire a Mortilatasti to bring you back so I can kill you myself. Understood?” 

The soldiers thumped a first to their chest in salute, and Cullen nodded in response. “Now, let's get on with it. I want to get out of this stinking bog as quickly as possible.” Benna fired up her fake Mark, coating her left hand with a thin layer of green fire. Her heart was thumping so rapidly she couldn't distinguish the different beats, and her hands shook as she cast barriers on all of them. She took a final deep breath, tasting the rot that surrounded them, and fell into her place slightly behind Cullen and Alrich. 

Slowly, carefully, they stalked forward. Benna kept her eyes focused on the keep; they'd been concerned that the archers might take pot shots at the green light of the ‘mark’. But none came. The tower had gone silent. Somehow, Benna wasn't reassured. They crept as quietly as heavily armed mice into what would have been the shadow of the keep if there had been enough light. Still nothing. Not even the archers they'd seen before were in evidence. Benna was tense, Cullen was looking as angry as a tiger yanked by the tail, and poor Alrich seemed more scared of his Commander than the barbarians who wanted to kill them all. 

Proceeded by their shields, Dirge and Benson edged under the portcullis and into the bailey. Still nothing. Cullen and Alrich held their shields so the edges overlapped, with Benna in the middle. Still, nothing. Until Cullen snapped his arm up, a clang echoing as he deflected an arrow aimed at Benna's head. The others sprinted forward, aiming for the pair of archers on the walkway above. The air filled with shouts as Alrich began to urge Benna back out of sight, only to drop his sword and yank her forward again as the portcullis fell with a deafening grind of metal on stone, trapping them inside. 


	33. In Which Gravity Loses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week! Whaaaaat!   
> Happy Sunday and please, I know I suck at fight scenes. I tried my best, okay?
> 
> Xx
> 
> (Fire_Kitten is awesome) ((I love all your comments))

The keep echoed with the kind of cursing only a seasoned soldier can unleash. Cullen was suddenly gone from in front of her, charging to join Dirge and Benson. “Get away from the gate!” Benna found herself hustled away from the portcullis and against the wall beside it, half smothered in wet leaves and crammed between the stones and Alrich’s body as he covered them both with his shield. She recovered her wits enough to cast more barriers on those fighting, catching glimpses of frantic movement around them. She swore she could hear someone laughing, but surely no one was _that_ crazy? 

Silence fell, and she tried to edge out from behind Alrich, only to have him push her back down gently. Cullen and the others clomped across the walkways, checking alcoves and rummaging through chests and boxes. Only when the Commander called the all clear was Benna allowed to move from the safety of the wall and Alrich could retrieve his sword. She kept her eyes away from the corpses of their ambushers but couldn't avoid the swathes and splashes of red, bright even in the gloom. Madly, her brain threw up some facts. Arterial blood was much brighter red and had a higher pressure than other kinds, so it was only when an artery was cut that you got… projection like this. Tim Burton films were made with blue lenses, which made the ketchup-blood they used stand out more. The classic _Psycho_ scene was done in one take. 

Her brain babbled away to itself until Cullen grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. She gasped and realised she'd been close to hyperventilating. She wanted a hug, but everyone was covered in ick. Evelynne owed her a damn sight more than a pair of socks. She held eye contact until her breathing steadied. Cullen nodded and stepped back, gesturing up the stairs to the right. “Hopefully that welcoming committee is the last. Same formation. Let's tell Korth how we feel about his accommodations.” Benna dredged up a smile and gave him a single, jerky nod, falling in with the men she suddenly decided she loved. Even if they were covered in ick. 

No more Avvar were in evidence as they walked deeper into the keep. Dirge and Benson checked the tents they passed, handing out the healing potions they found, but the people were absent. As they cautiously passed under another portcullis, this one long rusted into uselessness, they finally caught sight of the person they were there to see. 

He was huge, at least seven feet tall, and bulky. He wore a strange sort of hood with rams horns poking out of the side and wielded a two-handed hammer as if it were a toy. He sat at the far end of the ruined hall, flanked by more archers, and Benna got the distinct impression that he'd posed himself there to intimidate them. 

“Herald of Andraste! Face me! I am the Hand of Korth himself!” 

Benna smothered a giggle and whispered to Alrich, “Do you think he practised that line?” He let out a bark of laughter, which seemed to enrage the barbarians. The first arrows came at them almost before Benna could cast barriers. 

“Benna, take out the archers! Dirge, Benson, the warrior.” She could see why Cullen was the Commander. He had the kind of battlefield voice you just instinctively obeyed. She threw fire at the archers, her only real trick, disrupting them as they nocked and drew. But it wasn't enough to kill them. One was taken out as Cullen threw his grappling hook and dragged him onto the point of his sword, but the other took up a defensive position behind Korth’s ‘throne’ and continued to snipe at them. 

Cullen and Alrich stayed close to Benna, covering her with their shields as she cast barriers as fast as she could. One hit from that war hammer broke through her strongest barrier, and she could feel herself running out of magic. Cullen could too; he cast her a concerned look and sent Alrich to join the other two in battering at this mountain of a man. He seemed to shrug off every hit and keep coming, bellowing like a bull. She wanted lightning or something to shock or paralyse, but all she had was fucking useless fire. Cursing herself under her breath, she threw a bigger ball at his ridiculous hat, but he just roared and shrugged it off. 

Suddenly, Korth spun like a whirlwind, using his hammer as a counterweight. Its momentum was great enough that the soldiers had no hope of blocking it. All three of them were swept away like leaves in the wind, only Benna's magic preventing crushed bones. But they were down. Cullen swore fluidly, stepping forward to challenge the man himself. But Korth was having none of it, lowering his head and charging towards Benna, ignoring Cullen’s attempts to block or distract him. 

The Commander was out of position, not expecting an outright charge at the mage. He barely had time to bring his shield up to block the almost negligent sweep from that massive hammer, which bowled him over and out of Benna's view. She panicked, grabbing onto her magic and ducking sideways to try and get away from Korth, putting him between herself and Cullen. 

The war hammer caught her in the ribs as it came back the other way, breaking the fairly weak barrier she had on herself. The air blew from her lungs and the world vanished in a flare of red and gold as... she… flew. A moment of serenity in the midst of chaos. Even gravity didn't seem have any power in that moment… 

The world came back as she crunched into the wall, her mouth filling with blood, her vision going dark at the edges. _Broken ribs_ , she thought clinically, coming to rest in a tangled ball of limbs and hair and staff, the pain somehow miles away. _The shards probably punctured my lung, that's why I can't breathe properly. Probably a concussion and shock too…_

She didn't really process it at the time, but Korth went down with her, his whole left side suddenly a mass of charred skin and bone. Cullen bounced back from the hit he had taken, threw himself forward and neatly decapitated the massive barbarian. It was more of a mercy killing than winning a battle. He barely gave the sudden, smoking corpse a second look, dropping his sword and shield as he ran to Benna's side. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, so low that she could barely hear him over the pain. It was starting to arrive, creeping its claws into her chest. She opened her mouth to agree with his assessment, only to choke on the blood that flooded her mouth. Cullen's hands cupped her cheeks as he forced her to look at him. “You need to heal yourself. It's the fire, remember?” 

Gasping in as much air as she could, she nodded a tiny nod. She looked within herself as Mia had taught her, to try and call the healing fire. But there was nothing. It felt like her flame was gone. He must have read it in her face. “Fuck!” It was louder this time. His breathing was uneven. She reached out with her ungloved hand, shaking fingers to his filthy cheek. The pain was still creeping in, claws digging into her ribs and back, but he needed to breathe. 

Except… Cullen was _hurt_. Some tiny spark leapt to him through her fingertips. His shield arm was broken. And he had a concussion to match hers. Suddenly more worried about him than her probably-imminent demise, she reached out to touch more of his skin, her eyes drifting closed as she chased that tiny spark. 

Predictably, he panicked, giving her a tiny shake as he begged her to keep her eyes open, please Benna, stay with me. She found the small ember of her power, clutched it tight and forced it to grow. More. Higher. She needed to heal Cullen. 

When her eyes opened again, they burned gold. 

\----------

Cullen froze, staring. Her eyes no longer had irises or pupils. They burned a solid gold colour, bathing his face in the glow. Her face held no emotion as her fingers tightened on his cheek, tiny flares bursting from her. Tiny fires which joined, and grew, feeding off themselves until both he and Benna were wrapped in a shroud of flame. 

He prayed. He couldn't help it. That blankness, the utter lack of emotion on her face, which was usually so expressive… So he prayed to Andraste and the Maker, and he shook, and he stared into Benna's eyes as the roar of the fire grew deafening, and her magic surrounded, sustained and subsumed herself, and him. 


	34. In Which Agreements Are Reached

Benna came to folded up on herself. Her cheek was pressed against a cold, hard surface and an irregular rocking motion told her she was being carried. She dragged her eyelids open just a sliver, a glimpse of blond hair and stubble confirming that Cullen was carrying her across his chest. But that wasn't right… 

“Cullen put me down.” 

He didn't answer her, just tightened his grip, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. “Cullen, seriously, put me down!” At the bite in her voice, he stomped to a halt and carefully set her on her feet, not letting go until she was steady. Which, admittedly, took longer than she wanted to acknowledge. She kept a grip on his arm. “Thank you. Is everyone alright?” She looked around at their small group; Alrich, who was hovering almost as close as Cullen, watching her with concern, Dirge, standing watch, back straight even after the day they'd had, Branson, who had lost his shield somewhere but gained a bow and an extra sword. And last of all, Cullen, who should have been unconscious but somehow he was on his feet, eyes alert and focused on her. She knew him well enough by now to see that he was extremely worried about her, hiding any pain he felt from his men. And he certainly wouldn't thank her for pointing it out.

\----------

Cullen felt like he was made of sharp edges held together by his armour. Everyone knew this was impossible. She shouldn't even be conscious, let alone standing or talking. He'd felt he'd deplete her magic in the battle. By all rights, that Mana Surge she had somehow cast as her barrier broke should have put her back into the same state she was in after healing Shae. Yet somehow she had performed a major healing on both of them, causing a firestorm that would have set fire to the keep if there had been anything capable of burning. And now, less than a bell after finally passing out, she was awake and on her own feet. No, no he wasn't alright. Especially after the display. Her face hadn't been hers; he hadn't seen Benna in those eyes. 

He nodded sharply in answer to her question, unwilling to discuss… _anything_ right then. “Nothing worse than a few scrapes, my Lady. The kidnapped soldiers were in a cell near the Great Hall. They are staying at the castle for tonight and making their own way back to the road tomorrow.” She gave him a sharp look at the return to formality. He winced inwardly. That would tell her that something was certainly wrong.

Still, she nodded in return, accepting his answer at face value. “Then let's get out of this horrendous bog and back to the scouts’ camp. I need a drink.” 

To shouts of ‘Here, here!’, their little group trudged back onto the muddy road, the promise of a drink and a hot meal more than enough to tempt them to forget their questions and face the slime, undead, mists, zombies, squelch, walking corpses and mud. 

\----------

Benna was absolutely serious. “Cullen, if you don't give me that bottle right fucking now, I will set fire to your bedroll and make you sleep in the mud.” 

The group around them burst into laughter, chortling and elbowing each other as they listened to the stand-off. Cullen ignored them, looking concerned. “I'm just not sure you should be drinking alcohol, after…”

“I am! Now give it to me before I fight you for it.” She reached for the bottle, which had been found in one of the abandoned houses. 

He fended her off. “We don't even know what it is! The label says ‘Dragon’s Piss’! It could be anything!”

“As long as it's alcohol, I frankly don't give a shit. Look, _Commander_ , I'm not sure you've quite realised that today was the first time I've been in a battle. I _killed_ someone today! I'm not on watch, I'm not hurt or recovering. So if I, a healer, say I can drink Dragon’s Piss, then you shouldn't really be stopping me. So sit down, give me the bottle and _stop arguing_.”

Surrendering to the inevitable amidst cheers from the bolder scouts, he sat down beside her and handed her the damn bottle. She immediately popped the cork and took a careful sip, mindful of the fact that he was actually right; it could be anything. She gave a hiccough of surprise as a wave of spice hit the back of her throat, only to be soothed away by a sweet aftertaste. She smacked her lips and went back for another taste. “That's fantastic! It's a shame that it's being drunk for medicinal purposes because I'd serve this at my birthday party! Here,” she shoved the blue bottle into Cullen's hands, “you probably need this as much as me.” 

He stared at it for a moment, until his shoulders relaxed and he sighed a heavy sigh, tilting it up to his lips. She watched with amusement as his eyebrows jumped in pleased surprise, a tiny smile creeping over his lips. “Good, right?” She smiled back at him and took it back, cradling the pretty blue thing against her chest. When he nodded in reply, she grinned. “By the taste, we'll have you singing by the time the watch changes.”

\---------- 

Their attempts to kill brain cells was interrupted when a female scout stumbled to a stop in front of Cullen. “There's an Avvar, Ser! Just beyond bowshot.”

“What does he want?” The Commander demanded, pushing to his feet. If he was swaying slightly, no one would have said anything. They knew better. 

“He told Markus that he wanted to talk to ‘the woman who killed the chief’s pup’. He said his name is Sky Watcher.” Benna sighed. This fucking day had lasted weeks already. Cullen looked down at her briefly, debating with himself before returning his attention to the scout. 

“Did he seem angry? Do you think he intends harm?”

“I… no, Ser.” Cullen nodded and sent her back with word to allow the man to approach, but set the camp on alert. Lace handed Benna a jack of ale and several cups with a wink, vanishing into the shadows near the tents, her bow already strung. Benna set about pouring the ale, hiding her lovely blue bottle beneath her cloak and asking a passing soldier to bring some food. She and Cullen were an island of calm amidst sudden, muffled activity. She could feel the eyes focused on their fire. 

Sky Watcher turned out to be a giant of a man. He was fully a foot taller than Cullen, broad and heavy-set. It was impossible to tell his colouring, besides the blue of his eyes, because he was plastered in some type of clay. Grey in colour and streaked with white in a no-doubt significant pattern, it covered him and his clothes in a thick layer. His face was intelligent and his eyes were sharp as he took in the scene; she sat beside the fire, preparing their drinks, Cullen on his feet, arms folded but his posture at ease. He wasn't wearing his sword, but Benna knew that it was propped behind the log they sat on, within easy reach. 

Sky Watcher saw all of this, and clever eyes like his surely saw more. He planted his massive hammer, taller than Benna, and nodded to Cullen. To Benna he gave a strange sort of gesture, covering his eyes with one hand as he bowed his head. They nodded back, Benna giving Sky Watcher a small smile. “So you're the ones who put an end to that arrogant pup?” His voice was slow and thick, with an accent that reminded Benna of Yorkshire. She stifled a grin as he continued, “He was the chief's son; our hold would battle yours, if the chief cared.”

There was a moment of silence. “You aren't angry?” Benna blurted out. 

“Angry? You defended yourself and your people, Auger. I can have no quarrel with that.” 

“And your chief?” Cullen asked. It was only as he relaxed that it became obvious how tense he had been, for all his attempts at casualness. 

“Bah! The pup picked his own fights. Too bad for him he picked the wrong one. Movran knows that.”

Finally, Cullen gestured to a log, taking his own seat as Sky Watcher did. Benna handed out the ale just as a scout arrived with bowls of stew. The Avvar took both with obvious pleasure, saying a benediction or prayer in his own language. He continued in Common, “I thank the Lady for bringing me here. I had heard of tears in her skin, demons falling through like blood from a wound. It was thought that I could help heal the air, but it is beyond my skill.”

“You mean the rifts? Evelynne can close them. She's part of the Inquisition.”

Sky Watcher chortled. “Aye, we've heard tell of her; a woman with a star in her hand. I wonder if Korth knew that he fought her Auger and Champion instead? Bah, it doesn't matter; he's dead either way.” 

“Auger? Champion?” Benna was puzzled. She sort of knew that Auger was a fortune teller, a magic user, but he was using it as a title.

“Aye. I am privileged to meet one of the lowlanders. You, Champion, could be a Thane of the Avvar, the loyalty you command from your warriors. Yet you, Auger… do you walk in places other than these? Your spirit is betwixt and between, neither one nor the other. You hide more than you are beneath the skin. You two are something new to the Avvar, I think.” Benna felt cold. This ‘barbarian’ had seen what no one else had in all these months of dreams. And two? Her and Cullen? Lost for words, she inclined her head, a polite smile flickering across her face. 

Cullen rejoined the conversation. “If you wish to seal the Breach and rifts, perhaps the Inquisition would be a better fit for you than a clan with an indifferent Thane? The Herald is doing her best to heal the sky.” 

Sky Watcher let out a grunt of amusement. “If she commands the loyalty of those such as you, she must be mighty indeed. Perhaps… was this why I was called here? To join a new clan, in service to the Lady? That is a weighty thing.” 

Benna wasn't sure that she really wanted this man with clever eyes around Haven, but she was on the trip to support Cullen. “I am new to my magic, Sky Watcher. Perhaps you could teach me? I'm a healer.”

He snorted in reply, “Ah, but would you learn? Perhaps you would teach me. Let me think on this. My clan has others who can guide it, but leaving is not a thing to be decided over one night’s fire.” When they both nodded, he smiled in return. Suddenly he leaned over and before they could stop him he thrust one hand into the fire, plucking a glowing coal from the centre. It was bright as a star in the night. “I will take this for a memory, Lady of the Flame.” Benna stood to heal the horrible burns he must have given himself, a tiny flicker of fire appearing at her fingertips. Sky Watcher pulled his hand back, displaying the unmarked skin, even as he stared with something like awe at her magical display. He made that same gesture, covering his eyes with one hand. “I fear that it would indeed be myself cast into the role of student, Lady. I go,” he stood abruptly, the ember mysteriously vanishing as he reached for his hammer. “My thanks for sharing food and fire with me. I will find where you set your flag.” 

And with that, the mountain-man vanished into the night. 

\----------

Cullen wasn't quite sure what had happened. The Avvar had left, yes, and their people had reappeared. Alrich and the others had joined him and Benna with ale, all five of them eager to forget the Mire. Benna had produced her magic blue bottle from somewhere. They'd all been talking and… 

And now Benna is sitting in his lap. He's fairly certain that he'd had nothing to do with it, though. 

He doesn't know what to do with his hands. She perched mostly on his knees, which left some space between their torsos. Should he lean back on his hands? Put them on the log? Hold her around the waist? What? He could feel Varric smirking at him from Haven. She turned sideways to better see Dirge. Ah. Good. That made it easier; he could use one hand to support her back. The other was left useless, but he could take the bottle from her, yes? Another sip. She was right this stuff is amazing. 

She's singing. He's so rarely heard her sing, but it never failed to entrance him. It was another Orlesian song, too fast for him to easily follow, but the chorus, which she and Alrich were enthusiastically droning, consisted of ‘Butterfly’ over and over. Bizarre. 

He studies her. All the training she's been doing shows in the lean lines of her arms and shoulders; using a staff requires a different kind of strength. Their journey has brought a healthy glow to her skin after she burnt in the sun and slathered on some kind of cream, and he admires the dusting of freckles. 

She's currently laughing, her eyes bright. But he can see the shadows she's trying to drown. He's been through this with recruits; battle is nowhere near as glorious as the bards say. If it doesn't get better with time and distance, he'll have to talk with her. 

Oh no oh no now she wants him to sing. No way. He tells her he prefers to listen to her. Her cheeks flush just a little pinker but she insists, her brightness and warmth drawing him in just as it pulled the others. He sighs and gives in, after a few sips. Benna sings the verse again and he still doesn't catch it. Something like _A bit_ sonnée par _this damned battle_. Battle? What did that have to do with butterflies? Still, he quietly sings the chorus once, because he said he would. She's swaying, leaning more and more. 

When she takes the bottle from him and drains it, Cullen decides that's enough for one evening. He catches Dirge’s eye and jerks his head. Receives a nod in return. The soldiers get up to leave, despite Benna's protests. She's given up on keeping her balance, sliding down Cullen's thighs and tucking herself into his chest. His hand ended up on her hip and they sat in silence for a few moments. 

“We should go to bed,” he murmurs into her ear. He is bewildered for a moment when she gives him a helpless look, her already flushed cheeks becoming even darker. Then he realises what he'd said and how he'd said it. “No! That's not what I meant! I… urgh!” He can feel his face heating to match hers. His hand dropped from her hip. 

She bursts into giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. Shaking her head, she stands up, wobbling on her feet. Suppressing her laughter, Benna leans over and kisses him gently on each blushing cheek, holding onto his shoulders for balance. She whispers something in Elven before she stumbles away, the empty blue bottle clutched tightly to her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More mysteries? Or the same one? Hmm...
> 
> Bloody Sky Watcher is impossible to write, you guys!
> 
> The song Benna is singing is called 'Butterfly' and it's by Superbus
> 
> XxX


	35. In Which Benna Finally Reacts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING*
> 
> This is a _bad_ Hunter chapter. If you've read this far, I guess you're braced for what's coming. 
> 
> Sorry I think.
> 
> Xxx

She'd been doing so well. She had managed to get through work, making the most of all the tiny distractions it threw up. 

She had got through the journey home thinking about the time around the fire, smiling again at the jokes and marvelling at Cullen’s voice. He'd been very quiet but she had heard his smooth tenor joining in. She wished he'd sing more. She blushed at the memory of sitting on his lap. God, what must he think of her? At the time he had felt like the safest place she could possibly be, but looking back she couldn't imagine what she'd been thinking. All the scouts had seen! She'd had conversations with them! And he'd never said a word, only shifted to make her more comfortable and shared the bottle with her. 

It wasn't until she got home and felt the silence wrap around her like a shroud that her facade started to crack. As often as she tried to push them away, memories forced their way into her mind's eye. She began to shake as they hit her over and over. The sound of her bones breaking as she hit the wall. The horrific feeling as her staff blade cut through the spine of her first kill. The look on Cullen's face as he beheaded Korth almost without noticing. He had actually ended a man's life, and probably hadn't given it a second thought. He was always so… _human_ with her. Yet she had always believed that someone who could kill with no remorse was a monster. 

And _she_ had killed someone too. And, the memories of the sound of his screams, the stench of burning flesh mixed with the Mire, the way he had panicked and tried to run… only to have his skull cracked as her next fireball hit… 

She ran to the bathroom, barely making it before her lunch came up. She was shaking, sobbing between heaves, the evil miasma of the Fallow Mire heavy in her nose… When it was over, she flailed blindly until she found the flush, curling up into a ball on the cold tiles. She was shaking so hard she thought she might break into pieces, all sharp edges slicing into every part of her, drawing blood with every breath, every beat of her heart… she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to prevent herself from flying apart and wept silently. 

\----------

She didn't know how long she lay on the bathroom floor, but it must have been a while. Hunter found her there, tears still trickling down her face as she stared blankly at the wall. He didn't say anything immediately; he just stood in the doorway and watched her in silence for a few minutes. Benna couldn't even summon the energy to acknowledge him. She felt like any words she might say were trapped inside her chest along with the grief and terror of the Mire. 

Hunter left without saying anything and returned wearing more casual clothes. He draped himself against the doorway, folding his arms and drawling dismissively, “So, what? The perfect princess couldn't cope?” She blinked and finally moved her eyes to him. He looked stretched from this angle, his arms and legs vaguely spider-like. How could he possibly know? When she met his eyes, he continued, “The stress must be getting to you, right? Is that why you're flooding my bathroom?”

She just blinked at him for a moment. The stress of two lives? Oh. Her job? “No,” she finally croaked, “That's not why.”

Hunter snorted sceptically. “Wasn't that what you were sobbing about at the hotel on Monday?” She had said that, hadn't she? She'd lied and said that her job was stressful. He'd seen her crying after… 

After she'd heard him on the phone. Her eyes sharpened on his face, taking in the smirk that said ‘You're a weak woman and I'm in charge’. But maybe that wasn't true anymore? “No,” she replied, her voice stronger now. “That wasn't why I was crying then, either.”

“What then?” His eyes had turned wary. 

She pushed herself upright and leaned against the wall, every muscle tense. “I was crying,” she began through gritted teeth and a clogged throat, “because I'd just found out that you're cheating on me.”

It fell between them like the words had actual weight. The air felt thick. Benna couldn't say what she was feeling; it was all tight, hot, a storm in her chest, tangled up with the Mire and death and a love she'd thought she felt. Slowly, Hunter folded his arms, hands clenched into fists. He never took his eyes off hers. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“ _I heard you!_ ” She suddenly screamed, her voice echoing from the tiles. All of her tangled emotions were coming out at once, all the pain and shock of the last few days poured into her voice. His head jerked back just a little in shock. More quietly, she finally told him. “I heard you, on the phone at the hotel. You used to talk to _me_ like that…” He'd used the tone he reserved for _her_. He hadn't sounded that way in months. When he spoke to her now, it was almost always perfunctory, dismissive. She watched his eyes narrow. She knew she should stop but she _couldn't_. “You weren't there when I woke up. You're almost _never_ here if I wake up at night. And I heard you talking to her, talking about what a wonderful weekend you'd had and how you couldn't _wait_ to come back…”

“Did you also listen in on the part where I said you were a worthless cunt I only keep around for pity?” He interrupted her babbling. Benna actually found herself grateful for it; she was surprised to find that she was more angry than hurt, and his hateful words made her reach for her absent magic. Something must have changed in her face, because Hunter reacted. His face twisted into a sneer of disgust and he advanced as she slid her back up the wall. “It's you that caused this, not me! If you weren't such a pathetic excuse for a girlfriend, I wouldn't _want_ anyone else!”

“Yeah, well you're not winning any prizes yourself.” She spat back, glaring up into his face. “How long did she have to look in order to find your d-” she was cut off with a _crack_ as his hand came around. She actually saw it coming and tried to escape or block, but he was too close and she'd trapped herself against the wall. The slap almost knocked her off her feet, her vision swam and her cheek and ear immediately went numb. 

While she was still reeling, he dug his fingers into her shoulders and shook her hard, shouting into her face. “Don't ever try to put this on me! _You're_ the failure, _you_ caused this!” She felt flecks of spit hit her face, but couldn't orient herself enough to shove him back. In the end, he pushed her away and into the wall. 

She had enough wits left to twist slightly and take the hit with her arm, but couldn't recover in time to avoid a second slap that sent her reeling. She reached for her magic again, but felt nothing. It was that absence that hurt more than anything. 

He must have seen the pain in her eyes, because he backed up with a weird look of satisfaction. They stared at each other for a few moments before he spat at her feet and left, not stopping until after the front door slammed shut behind him. 

She stood, frozen. Finally, she crumpled into a ball, buried her head in her arms, and wept until she had run out of tears. 


	36. In Which Ducks Dabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a massive *THANK YOU* to everyone who's read this far. I wasn't really expecting this to become quite as epically long as it looks like it will.  
> I love Benna and she deserves her happy ending, but it just wouldn't be a good story if there weren't any twists and turns along the way... 
> 
> Xxx

Cullen watched Benna carefully the next morning. She had seemed fine last night, to someone who didn't know her, but he'd been through this before with new recruits; no matter what they expected, real battle was always a thousand times worse. She'd been hiding the shadows in her eyes but he'd seen them simply because he knew to look. Dirge and the others would be keeping an eye on her too; they'd acquired a strange sort of closeness from the adventure yesterday.

She was withdrawn that morning, a stark contrast to her usually bubbly attitude. He'd been able to get to know some of her habits on the journey east, and her listless movements and long minutes staring into the distance were atypical. She still did her part, striking the tent and caring for her horse, but even Nunis barely coaxed a thin smile from Benna.

He wanted to talk to her, but the last minute minutiae prevented him. Still, as he gave orders and scrawled a few quick reports for Leliana and Josephine back at Haven, he kept half an eye on Benna as they prepared to set out for Therinfal. The captured soldiers were due to arrive that morning, so he spent some time inspecting the medical supplies and defences, giving orders both out loud and on paper. He even caught Scout Harding casting anxious glances towards the silent and withdrawn mage.

Finally they were ready to leave. Cullen found himself jostled to the middle of the group, Alrich appointing himself troop leader for the day. The man could find his way to anywhere, even without a map, going cross country with uncanny skill. The herd seemed to part like water, until he found himself riding knee-to-knee with Benna, a ring of space appearing as if by magic. He caught a glance from Branson, who looked at Benna with a worried expression.

Amused at being so thoroughly managed by his men, he turned to Benna with a smile, hoping to share the joke. But she seemed barely aware of his presence, only glancing his way once before she returned to her contemplation of Nunis’ mane.

“I'll be so relieved to be out of this bog,” he tried. Benna didn't even look up, humming a quiet acknowledgement. Unsure, Cullen decided to give her the silence she'd wrapped around herself and try speaking to her again later.

\----------

Four miles later, spurred by glances from his men, he tried again. “I hope that Sky Watcher will decide to join us; he seems like he would be an asset.” She flicked a glance his way, but only nodded. Cullen sighed. He'd try again when they stopped at midday.

\----------

He watched her wander away from the group, barely paying attention as a soldier reached for Nunis’ reigns. They had stopped at one of the small campsites that were scattered along the roads in Ferelden. This one was beside a small pond and boasted a well-established fire pit, complete with log seats and a small cache of firewood. Not that they'd be using them; this was just a short halt. Still, it made a pleasant place to stop, surrounded by proper forests and the rustle of animals in the brush. No doubt someone would try their hand at hunting while they were here; perhaps they'd have something good tonight.

As a soldier took his reigns to water the horses, Cullen watched Benna. Her hands dangled limply and her shoulders slumped as she walked around the pool they had stopped by and sat, out of earshot but still responsibly within view. She couldn't have said ‘I want to be alone’ louder unless she screamed it, but Cullen was unwilling to let her. Something about her posture and attitude was familiar.

When she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward over them, he remembered in a rush. This reminded him of nothing more than the morning at the lake. The day that… she'd been weeping then, but apart from that…

Cullen's fists clenched. If that bastard had upset her after yesterday, he'd hunt him down and break his nose. And if he'd _hurt_ her, he thought grimly, watching Benna rub her fingers over her cheek, Cullen would kill him. No questions, no excuses.

Pulling bread, cheese, dried apples and bacon from his pack, Cullen gave orders to care for and rest the horses. An hour would be plenty to rest the men, but the Inquisition wasn't so wealthy that they could afford to risk the health of its horses. He nodded in satisfaction and left the group, making his way around the pond to where Benna sat, staring into the distance. Cullen didn't say anything, didn't know what he could _possibly_ say, so he just settled himself on the bank beside her, placing the food between them. She ate mechanically, not even glancing his way. He did the same, keeping his gaze on the ducks that dabbled at the water's edge. No doubt they'd have been a tempting target, but none of the men wanted to interrupt them. He could feel them watching though.

When the food was gone, he gave her another few minutes, but still nothing. Her eyes didn't even flicker to follow the insects that buzzed past. Quite concerned now, he carefully reached out and took her hand from where it was lying limply on the bank. She didn't object, much to his relief, but she didn't react either. They sat like that for a little while, each thinking their own thoughts.

Cullen carefully interlaced their fingers. It was odd; he didn't think he'd ever touched her skin for this long. Usually any touch like that was a quick brush, and he was usually wearing gloves besides. Her hand was warm and smooth, soft except where he could feel the calluses, in different places to his because of their different weapons. He absently ran his thumb over her knuckles, still not looking at her. This wasn't to make her respond, it was to let her know that he was with her. He actually began to relax himself, just enjoying the day and the absence of the ever-lurking headache.

They'd been there for at least ten minutes, probably longer, when she suddenly gripped his hand tightly. She finally, _finally_ turned to look at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. He opened his mouth, but closed it almost immediately. What could he possibly say? “I'm sorry, Cullen.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, wobbly from the tears and weak. He must have looked confused or concerned, because she swallowed hard and elaborated, “I'm sorry for being silly and childish today, I just couldn't…” she trailed off, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could brush it away. He turned to face her more fully, gently taking her other hand.

“This isn't about yesterday, is it?” He asked her quietly.

She shook her head. “Yesterday was… awful.” She winced at the memories. “But… I did what had to be done, we rescued our people and stopped them from hurting anyone else. And he was determined to kill me…”

So this _was_ about Hunter. Cullen worked to keep his expression calm. This wasn't about his feelings. “What did he do?” She flinched from the angry tone, but didn't let go of his hands. “Is he unhappy about you being on this mission?”

She gave a sort of choked laugh. “He doesn't even know about the mission. He found me crying last night, thinking about… everything that happened yesterday. We… argued, about… something else. And he, he doesn't take accusations well.” Cullen had to intentionally unclench his jaw, lest his teeth crack. He may not be the most adept at social interactions, but he could read between the lines.

“He hit you. Again.” She flinched at the words, trying to pull her hands away for a moment before her shoulders slumped in defeat and she nodded. “I tried to block it but I was backed against a wall.” The tears started to fall. “I've been training so hard, and I can fucking _kill_ an Avvar, but I can't defend myself from _him_? I'm so, so…”

“Benna,” Cullen interrupted her gently, giving her hands a little shake, “ _It's not your fault_. You shouldn't have to be thinking about defending yourself from someone you love. And you were exhausted from the fighting yesterday. There's no shame in that.”

She met his eyes, searching. Apparently she found whatever she was looking for, because she nodded once, even managing a watery smile. But then she crumpled, the tears coming thick and fast. She pulled her hands from his to cover her face, so he shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. She leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin. He could feel her almost silent sobs, but he just held her close, letting her cry.

She didn't see that his fist was clenched so tight that his nails had dug into his palm. She didn't see the rage burning. She just knew that Cullen wouldn't leave her to be alone, that he cared. She didn't know that she fell in love with him, just a little, there on the banks of the pond, surrounded by soldiers and horses and ducks dabbling in the weeds. 


	37. In Which Cullen Is Claimed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! We're at Therinfal you guys! I can't believe it! I must admit, this chapter is mostly fluff concerning Benna's view of things on the road, but I thought you needed a break from all the angst and tears. I'm also at 80k words for this series!! I never imagined I'd get this far. 
> 
> I love you guys! Although I'm starting to think that Hunter needs the Witness Protection Program...
> 
> If you're really craving seeing Cullen have 'words' with Hunter, I wrote a one-shot months ago. Sadly, it will never be canon, but it might satisfy your more bloodthirsty cravings...  
> I also wrote a couple of cute little one-shots - one about Evvy and one with my little soldier band. Go check them out in the other work attached to this series.
> 
> As always, massive thanks to Fire_Kitten who's been struggling with writer's block but still took the time to help me get these last few chapters right. A little bird told me to expect a chapter from her later today, you should go check it out.
> 
> XxX

They reached Therinfal exactly on schedule, thanks to Alrich’s miraculous ability to find shortcuts. They'd ridden cross-country at his insistence, followed a farm track for several miles and popped out onto the main road half a day ahead of where they would have been. He swore that he'd never been to this part of Ferelden before; he just ‘had a feeling’. 

Neither Cullen or Benna mentioned Hunter again. There was nothing to say. She knew his thoughts as clearly as if he had told her. Yet there was almost nothing he could do to help. She could feel the frustration rolling off him, but he never said anything, and she didn't pry. 

But she did feel a new closeness to the little group she had entered the Mire with. They all looked out for each other now. She noticed Branson challenging a restless Dirge to a sparring match, despite the fact that he was exhausted. Dirge brought Cullen food when he was too busy to remember, and glowered silently at him until he ate it. Alrich got into a fight over an insult made to Branson, accepting his standard punishment without flinching. Benna was sure she saw Cullen giving him an approving nod when no one else was looking. 

And they all did nice things for her. If she turned her back for a moment, Nunis would magically be brushed, Branson grinning at Benna from beside his own horse. Extra berries would find their way into her hands, and everyone always left her accustomed seat next to Cullen free. Some of the younger scouts had heard the tales already circulating about what exactly had happened in the Mire, and treated her with a sort of fascinated awe. She was thankful that her team never recoiled from her; quite the opposite. Alrich was constantly seeking her out and asking for healing. His endearing clumsiness gave her a steady supply of injuries to heal.

In a blatant attempt to avoid the nobles they were due to meet as much as possible, Cullen led their travel-stained group to a farm a little way outside a nearby village, paying the family well for the use of their barn. Benna found herself much in demand for her ability to heat water; everyone needed a bath, even the horses. They ate well too, the farmers were happy to sell them a few chickens and vegetables. 

Finally, they could delay no longer, Alrich leading their fast-moving and refreshed group up the road. They caught up with with the procession of impractical carriages, each one gaudier than the last, only a few miles from the fortress. Cullen was invited into the leading carriage to discuss strategy, though he looked like he'd rather stick pins in his eyes, much to Benna's amusement. She, thankfully, was left out. The idea of dealing with five Viviennes was enough to make her shudder. 

Orders came down from on high. The nobles’ guards would be their vanguard, acting as heralds for their respective masters. The nobles would follow with Cullen and Benna as representatives of the Inquisition and the Herald, respectively. Benna wasn't keen. She'd learned enough in Haven to know what these mostly-Orlesian nobles would think of her as a mage. 

Still, she would have Cullen, and a group of four soldiers who had appointed themselves bodyguards. Dirge was among them, the taciturn warrior giving her a reassuring nod while patting his sword hilt. She smiled back, adjusting the strap that held her staff, making sure it was easy to draw. She was wearing her armour, thankfully cleaned of Mire grime, under a sleeveless surcoat in Evelynne’s green. An Inquisition eye inside a pair of halla horns proclaimed her position as the Herald’s personal representative. No one else bore that particular colour or device, and Evelynne had had to argue long and hard to persuade her. 

With the rest of the Inquisition soldiers as a rear guard, they rode the last few miles in uneasy silence. The scouts hadn't been able to give them much of an idea of what to expect; the fortress was uncomfortably silent, with very few people in evidence beyond a gatekeeper. 

The region was gorgeous. Therinfal was a sprawling complex tucked behind squared off grey walls, perched atop a rocky hill. A river flowing around the foot offered extra security and fresh water, the bridge spanning it made part of the fortress itself by means of a gatehouse and small courtyard which limited access to the bridge. Everywhere Benna looked, she saw another tower, another set of crenellations, another fortification. She'd been told that this place was once a training facility for Seekers like Cassandra. If that was the case, there must once have been thousands of them. 

The surrounding countryside was just as impressive; though broken and rocky it had a sense of endurance and wild loneliness that made Benna want to wander the moor, seeing what ancient secret she could uncover. It was the kind of place the Hound of the Baskervilles would be found on a misty evening. There were thousands of birds at this time of year, all of them shrieking their outrage at the clumsy humans disturbing their hunt for food. Benna spotted lots of starlings, sparrows and other small birds, as well as a few larger cranes and several hawks. The smaller birds were curious about them, crowding the tree branches to observe and chatter amongst themselves. She smiled to see them, because they seemed just like those at home. So did the bugs. Benna was covered in bites. 

She had just handed Dirge her staff so she could try and scratch her shoulder blades when a man wearing the most ridiculous lumpy hat and a golden mask rode up to her. She tightened her hands in her reigns and gave him a cool smile. Anyone wearing a gold mask would be a noble. Her lessons with Josephine had taught her more than how to speak Common. 

“I'm told that you are Lady Benna? And the representative of the Herald of Andraste?” When she inclined her head politely, he continued, “Good, good. The Commander was most reluctant to allow; - do call off your guard dog. This conversation is not for idle ears, let alone a mage.”

Benna suppressed a grin and turned to Dirge. He'd been riding on her other side, ready to hand her back her staff. The urge to scratch was gone, but a spirit of mischief prompted her to wave the soldier off. She caught an answering twinkle in his eye, especially when she brought light to her fingers, reminding him that she was far from helpless, even without a weapon. He gave her a sarcastically elaborate bow and dropped back to ride with a scout Benna knew for a fact was deadly with thrown daggers. 

“Wonderful! Now, I was speaking with the Commander, and he outright refused to allow those born to it to take the lead in negotiations! Imagine! Surely it must be understood that this alliance between Orlais and the Inquisition should have someone familiar with the Grand Game as its spokesman? Ser Rutherford, worthy as he may be as a military man, is common-born, unable to fully comprehend the subtle nuances of discussion and debate, as  _ we _ are. I was hoping that perhaps we could form an agreement to… persuade Ser Rutherford to allow one of us to present his arguments.”

“That would certainly be inappropriate, my lord, considering that we have not even been introduced.” Benna replied coolly. 

“I… do forgive me. I am Lord Esmeral Abernache of Orlais. My family has agreed to ally with the Inquisition in the matter of sealing the Breach. We are a humble house, but I'm proud to say that some few others look to us for guidance.” 

Benna considered that anyone who claimed to be humble inevitably followed it up with blatant bragging. She gave the ugly mask a saccharine smile. “My name,” she began, “is Lady Benna Rutherford de Par’an-Atema.”

Abernache spluttered, as if he'd swallowed a fly. “ _ Rutherford _ ?”

Benna smiled serenely. “Indeed. A different branch, of course. But I didn't get to finish. Lady Benna de Par’an-Atema, of the Haven Mage’s Collective, at your service.” She reached out a hand as Dirge, with perfect timing, placed her staff in her palm. Smiling at him in thanks, but avoiding his eye in case she started to giggle, she slid her staff into the holster on her back and turned to look at the noble beside her. 

His mouth hung open and his eyes behind his mask were wide. Before he could say anything she gave him another sweet smile. “I'm sure Commander Rutherford has everything in hand, but if you have a specific concern I would be happy to bring it to his attention. The Herald was most insistent that I support him in any way possible.” 

Lord Abernache gaped a moment longer, then shut his mouth with an audible  _ snap _ . “That won't be necessary.” He gave her a brusque nod and abruptly kicked his horse ahead, leaving her behind. She turned with a grin on her face as Dirge caught up, chuckling. 

“Perhaps you could go and inform the Commander that I appropriated his name? I wouldn't want him to be surprised by it later.”

Dirge gave her an insolent bow from horseback. “Of course, my Lady Rutherford.” Snorting, she clipped him around the back of the head as he passed her, both of them laughing as he pulled ahead to find Cullen.

 

\----------

 

Cullen resisted the urge to rub his temples. Dealing with nobility, especially Orlesian nobility, was always awful. The men made his fists itch and the women made him want to run. Those damn masks didn't help either. He'd spent over an hour trapped in a rocking carriage with three masked figures, arguing about who would introduce them. He understood the game well enough; if a noble acted as herald to the Inquisition, they would be seen as subservient to that noble in some way. Yet all three of them had apparently assumed that he couldn't possibly understand the simplest nuance, and none of them seemed to comprehend the word ‘no’. Maker, he'd wished Benna was with him, he could have done with an ally at the very least. And he'd noticed that she had a way about her that allowed her to get exactly what she wanted, without the other party realising that they'd been manipulated. Fleetingly, he wondered how often she used it on him. 

His thoughts were interrupted as Dirge came up from behind. “Everything alright?” He could feel a new frown beginning to form. Was there something wrong with Benna?

His worries were soothed when Dirge let a small smirk cross his lips. The man was usually stoic, but Benna made him smile more often. “I bring a report from Lady Benna Rutherford -”

Cullen interrupted him by inhaling in shock, only to cough violently as an insect of some sort got sucked into his throat. It took several moments and Dirge’s ‘concerned’ thwacking on his back for Cullen to regain his composure. Benna  _ Rutherford _ ? What? His face was red, he could feel it. He gestured for Dirge to continue. 

“... Lady Rutherford.” The man was trying so hard not to laugh Cullen thought his face might crack. “She wished me to inform you that Lord Abernache approached her with an eye to forming a noble alliance against you, Ser. The lordling wished to take the lead in negotiations and hoped she would lend her aid.” Dirge dropped the formal delivery and leaned towards Cullen. “If you want my opinion, Ser, it was more of a test of  _ her  _ than anything. But it was fucking fantastic! She put on that ‘you're a shitstain’ look she has sometimes and told him she was a Rutherford, and a mage but she'd do her best to persuade you. He didn't even bother to say anything else, just up and left!”

Cullen was struggling to keep up. “If that's all Abernache wanted, why are you here telling me? This could just as easily have waited.”

The soldier smirked at his horse’s ears. “She didn't want you to get a shock when someone referred to her as a Rutherford.”

Cullen glared. He'd been set up by his own men. “Ass. Return and tell her it's fine, at least until we've shaken off these nobles.” Waving off the insolent salute, he tried to pay attention to the road. This was important. And yet… his thoughts swung back to her like iron to a lodestone. 

She'd claimed him as a relative somehow. Why? What on earth…? His thoughts stumbled to a stop, his cheeks glowing even brighter. Unless… what if she'd just claimed  _ him _ ? One didn't have to be  _ born _ a Rutherford, after all. Oh Maker, he hoped she hadn't done that. It would only complicate things. And yet… a tiny part of him loved the sound of it.  _ Lady Benna Rutherford… _ perhaps…

Cullen was jolted out of his thoughts by a shout from the vanguard. Gesturing to his bodyguard, he urged his horse into a canter, ready to investigate what had them so concerned. 

 

\----------

 

A scout came running down the line, sliding to a stop in front of Nunis. “The Commander requests your presence, my lady.” Benna nodded briskly and kneed her horse into a trot. As she passed the carriages, nobles peered out past masks and curtains. At least these ones weren't getting in the way. 

As she pulled to a halt beside Cullen, he was already in the midst of giving orders. “I want two patrols with us and everyone else to fall back half a mile to that last rise. Form a perimeter and send out a few scouts.” He nodded to Benna as she arrived and continued. “We'll send up a flare in the usual colours to inform you of our progress. Ser Rowan has command.” With a clatter of salutes, half of the soldiers left to begin the laborious process of turning the carriages around. “Rowan. Don't let the nobles do anything stupid.” 

With orders dispatched, Cullen finally turned to Benna. “Our lead scouts reported back. The first gatehouse is empty, except for the corpse of some kind of monster. I'm going in with a couple of patrols to see what's going on in there. I'd like you to come, in case we meet some resistance.” She nodded in agreement, dismounting and reaching for her leather arming cap. Handing Nunis’ reigns to a scout who reached for them, she took a waterskin and small bag off the saddle and checked the buckles on her armour. Her hands were shaking. She really, really didn't want to do this. But she was the best healer, and probably the only mage. Cullen needed her. She had no choice. 


	38. In Which There Are Many Corpses, And Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute nightmare! Partly because I don't like this story arc and partly because introducing this particular companion is always tricky.  
> I must admit I put it off and started DA2 for the first time instead...
> 
> Thanks as always go to Fire_Kitten for her unwavering support. She updated recently - go read it!
> 
> Xxx

The corpse was… well, it was certainly dead, lacking most of its throat as it was. And it was definitely a monster; something vaguely man-shaped but lacking a true human form. It was sprawled out on the second floor of the gatehouse, a tangled pile of flesh and red crystal mixed disharmoniously together. They stood in a circle around it and observed for a moment. Even the spray of blood from the torn throat seemed wrong, somehow.

And it _felt_ wrong. She wasn't sure how else to describe it. If every living thing had a distinct note in a symphony, this was a jangling harshness, off key and out of sync. She was five feet away with no intention of getting closer. She could feel how pale she must be, and she was clammy with sweat.  
One of the scouts moved forward to turn the thing onto its back. Benna went to stop her, but too slowly. The scout backed away as Cullen choked out, “Maker’s breath!”

It was a nightmare. A human face twisted and wrong, with chunks of crystal growing like tusks through the cheeks and growing across the forehead, obscuring one eye. Cullen made a strangled noise as the device on the breastplate was revealed. The flaming sword of the Templars. Benna gasped as she suddenly recognised the crystal too, from playing the first mission in the game. “That's red lyrium.”

It fell like a lead weight into the room. They all took a moment to absorb that, before Cullen was ordering most of the group out of the room. It wasn't safe. When she glanced over at him, he was as pale as she felt, and his hands shook. Her mind whirled as she tried to consider the implications of the mysterious corpse. A thousand questions. How had the Templars got hold of red lyrium? It was corrupted somehow, unsafe. Who was that… man? Woman? How had they got so… twisted? And what, she stumbled on the stairs, what had happened to the rest? By Leliana’s best guess there should have been hundreds of Templars here. Were they all like that one? And what or who had killed them?

Her head spinning, she found a quiet corner and sank down on a convenient sack. She took deep breaths, listening to the murmurs from their exploratory group. One voice in particular caught her attention. “They took the red because it made them strong. They didn't know that it burns. Now they're all burning, red rage and hunger, blasted, blighted, turned from their purpose.”

It wasn't until the end that Benna realised she didn't recognise the voice. She jerked around sharply, catching a glimpse of a slender figure as it vanished in the glare of sunlight from the window beside her. She sprang to her feet, pulling her staff from her back, just as Cullen called for their attention from the other side of the room. She turned to listen, keeping her back to the wall.

“No former Templars will accompany us; those of you who are here will secure the bridge and gate, send a message to our main camp and act as a rescue force if we need it. Keep an eye out for our flares. No one is to go near the corpse, and the room will be guarded from the outside…”

Benna stopped listening. She was obviously going with Cullen's group into the fortress proper; no way would he let someone else go in his place, and she was still the only healer. She was more interested in what that mysterious person had said. They took the red? Red lyrium? Her stomach rolled at the thought that the monster upstairs used to be human.

“Benna,” She looked up to find that Cullen had approached. “You’ll be with us, but you must not take risks. Be alert. If there’s more of these… monsters, we’ll have to fight. I’ve seen the effects of red lyrium. Don’t let _anything_ get inside a wound; seal an injury immediately. If you start feeling strange, let us know. You’re our only mage; I don’t want to know what red lyrium would do to you.” She revised her previous thought. This wasn’t Cullen, this was the Commander. She nodded in reply, and he clapped his hands together. “Let’s go.”

\----------

An empty courtyard greeted them on the other side of the bridge. Doors hung open, half off their hinges. The stables were empty, hay bales and implements slashed and destroyed, the detritus scattered about. A few wild birds fluttered somewhere above, but otherwise there were no signs of life. Yet Benna still felt eyes on them. She twisted her staff between her palms nervously, the rough grain intimately familiar after all these weeks. It did little to soothe her jangling nerves.

Cullen stopped them against a wall covered with tattered banners. Instead of sending out scouts, he split their group into two, choosing experienced scouts to go with each. They would make sure that their group wasn't walking into something they couldn't handle. Any wounded would either be healed by her or brought back here. Everyone nodded seriously, weapons in hand. Cloaks, bags and extra equipment were left in a tidy pile. One group left to creep up the stairs to the inner courtyard, while Cullen's team cautiously entered the building itself.

  
Benna was towards the back of the group, trying to hide her obvious nerves from the soldiers. Dirge had dropped back to her side, but neither of them said anything. She was busy worrying over the open door at their back. She already knew they weren't here alone, and she didn't like leaving their backs exposed. Equally, she knew that they needed a clear escape route. She settled for placing a barrier over the open door until they were at least twenty metres away from it. Dirge eyed her but didn't say anything, his shortsword ready in his hand.

  
There was nothing in the first room except corpses. They looked human, but that jangling sense of wrongness was present, just like with the red lyrium monster. Cullen had dismissed them, but she edged over to the one that ‘sounded’ the loudest. Using the blade of her staff, she prised the jaw open, wincing at the crackle of bone as it broke under the pressure. It drew the attention of some of the others, who watched as she leaned over while holding her breath. The inside of the mouth was coated with crystals. Only the tongue remained relatively clear, although it was black and swollen in death. The teeth were mostly absent, except for a few molars, but they had been replaced by jagged chunks of lyrium, sprouting at odd angles. From the look of the neck, the inside of the throat was in the same condition.

  
Benna recoiled, staggering backwards away from… it before she would allow herself to breathe. She watched as the others took a look at the discovery, turning pale in the dim light. Her hands shook. Cullen took notice. He leaned over the corpse, as carefully as she had. He recoiled, his face pale, and walked over to where she stood, leaning against a broken table. “Are you alright?” He kept his voice low.

  
“Yes, but, Cullen, I think they're _drinking_ it!” Her voice was quiet but shaking with the speed of her breathing. It was the most obvious explanation, the same way a smoker would develop cancer in their mouth or throat. He inhaled sharply and stared at her in horror.

  
“How did you know to look?”

  
She shrugged, “They feel wrong. Not as bad as that monster, but… it's like they're singing off key. So I checked the easiest place to see the inside.”

  
He watched her for a moment. “I think you're possibly more sensitive to this stuff than even me, and I took lyrium for years. I want you up front with me; you might be able to sense them coming, if there's any alive here.” Benna took a deep breath and nodded, gripping her staff in one white-knuckled hand. She moved to the front of their little group, Dirge a comforting shadow at her shoulder. A scout picked the lock and they cautiously stepped through.

\----------

A confusion of dark hallways and cramped rooms followed. They were outside for too brief a moment, gasping at the fresh air, before they plunged back into the twists and turns of the ancient keep. Always dark, always silent. It was a tomb.

  
And always, there were the corpses. Some old, piles of crystals and slush, others new, still leaking blood. Someone or something was ahead of them. _It must be a person_ , Benna thought to herself, _all the wounds are clean, no bite or claw marks_. So a very silent and deadly someone was clearing the way. The whole group was wound tight as a spring, hands clenched, eyes darting, ears cocked.

  
During a break in a courtyard, she heard the voice again. “I'm helping. It would hurt you, they want to make everything burn. Twisted by Envy and cool blue but not even the crystal lake can soothe now. You're like me. But not? Singing the same song, curled up together like kittens in a basket.” This time she controlled her reaction, carefully turning her head while calling her magic. In the split second before the head of her staff began to glow, her eyes met pale blue ones, and she caught a glimpse of straw coloured hair.

  
And then it… he was gone.

Vanished in broad daylight.  
Fighting to stay calm, she looked around for Cullen. He needed to know, even if it did sound mad. He was standing behind her, a faint, puzzled expression on his face. “I'm sure… wasn't there some...one?” Her heart chilled as his brow cleared. _He didn't remember._ He'd been stood close enough to hear and see this invisible person, but something was affecting his memory. She tried. “Cullen, did you see who was talking to me?”

  
He gave her a confused look. “There was no one near you, except me.”

  
“Someone was here! They were talking to me about burning and lakes and singing! Didn't you hear them?”

  
Now he was looking really concerned. He took a step closer and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “You've never really been around lyrium, have you?” His voice had dropped to a soothing murmur. “It… sings. Ordinary people can't hear it, but mages and Templars can. I can hear it now, this red stuff sings just as loud. But the song… it's twisted. You must not give in to it.” Half hypnotised by the low rumble of his voice and the gentle rasp of his thumb along her cheekbone, she nodded. There was nothing else she could do. He finally met her gaze. She felt a jolt of… _something_ , quickly smothered by concern. He was pale and clammy, his pupils slightly too large. She could see in the lines of his face how hard he was trying to hide it.

This wasn't right. She reached out and placed her own hands on his cheeks, fingers massaging his temples. A few flares of gold darted from her fingertips, soothing away the headache and nausea. Cullen's body, despite his mind’s control, visibly relaxed. “I… thank you.” She smiled in reply, and they stood like that for a moment longer, eyes locked.

  
At Dirge’s pointedly loud cough, Cullen drew away gently. Sending the man a glare, he made sure to thank her for the healing, maybe a touch louder than really necessary. Benna inclined her head in reply, glancing up to take one more glimpse of the sky before they plunged back into the depths of this horrible place.

\----------

The Great Hall was empty. The barracks were empty. The kitchen hadn't been used in weeks to judge by the spoiled food. This part of the fortress was empty even of corpses. But the song of red lyrium continued. Endless corridors and echoing rooms.

  
Benna thought they were in the northern part of Therinfal, but she couldn't be sure. They were in a high courtyard with lots of doors when she heard it again. “They're in the dark. Maker, what if they come back? They refused the red, cold iron and locks and darkness. Hope is almost gone, a guttering candle. Hurry!” She didn't even glance around this time. _Cold iron, locks and darkness_. It had to be a prison. She looked around for Cullen, spotting him just as he pulled open a heavy door that lead to a dark set of stairs, leading down. She joined him, descending one step behind, her staff almost useless in such close quarters. She held it awkwardly in her left hand, using the other to light their way.

  
Down and around, and down again. She didn't like this. It felt like a trap that they were walking into of their own volition. From the set of Cullen's shoulders, he felt the same. He'd left two of their group to guard the door, but that didn't make her feel any better.

  
Her concerns were forgotten when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Packed into small cells, five or six to a cell, were people. Not monsters. They didn't sound wrong. Some of them were even shackled to the pillars in the middle of the open space; troublemakers or simple overflow. The stench made her lightheaded. She breathed through her mouth as she followed Cullen as he strode over to the middle of the room, watching with her hands clenched tight around her staff, Dirge at her shoulder.

  
“Who are you?” Cullen barked to the room in general.

  
“I'm Ser Barris.” A man with chocolate skin spoke up from a cell to their left. “We're all that's left of the Templars.”

  
“What..” her voice cracked. Benna  swallowed and tried again. “What happened to the others?”

  
“There was a new lyrium. The officers had it. It makes you stronger, they were introducing it to the ranks. But they locked us in here. We haven't seen anyone for… days now. Who are you?”

  
“I am Commander Cullen of the Inquisition.” Cullen was still on high alert, one hand gripping his sword, the other clenched into a fist.

  
“Inquisition! We had word that you were coming. Please, let us out! Do you have lyrium? We need it!”

  
Cullen looked around the room. They were all clearly malnourished, weak. They were surrounded by glittering eyes, but it felt more like hope and hunger than a threat. “Are any of you injured or sick? We have a Spirit Healer.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but didn't say anything. Barris nodded.

  
“They were not gentle. And a week here… has not been kind. Please, start with Denon. He's hurt worst.” Cullen nodded to Benna, giving her permission before he moved closer and crouched next to Barris. She moved over to the cell Barris had indicated, Dirge following and soon joined by Alrich. The sweet smell of infection greeted her, but she managed to smile at the man… boy, really, he couldn't be more than twenty, who was slumped against the bars. “Are you Denon? I'm Benna and I'm going to heal you. It will glow a bit, but I promise I won't hurt you. Is that alright?” He barely seemed aware, fever making his eyes glassy, but he managed to nod. She swept her eyes over the others in his cell, making sure that none of them were going to object. She was keenly aware that all of these people were Templars, mage hunters, and that they might not be in their right mind. If lyrium was a drug, they'd been in forced withdrawal for at least a week.

  
Cautiously, she reached through the bars to touch Denon’s shoulder, calling her magic. He'd taken a wound to his thigh, and it had unsurprisingly become infected. His body was burning through reserves he didn't have, eating his muscles as the fever dried him from the inside out. Her magic scoured the wound, clearing the infection in his blood. She closed the tear in his thigh, but stopped short of the deep healing she had given Shae, aware that she needed to pace herself. Others would need her.

  
Smiling into the boy’s grateful face, she started to turn to look for her next patient, only to stop short. Everyone froze, listening, as footsteps sounded on the stairs above.


	39. In Which Benna Overreaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't quite get this done in time for the weekend, so here's the conclusion to Therinfal!
> 
> And, Kitten, now I'm at 82222 words, I can get on the party bus! I'll just drink all the bubbly while I wait for you.
> 
> Seriously though, over 80k words! Amazing! Thank you everyone who's come along with me for the ride. Still got a long ways to go yet...
> 
> XxX

Cullen was instantly on his feet and moving towards the stairs. Their little party sorted itself into ranks as Benna threw a barrier over the doorway; shields to the front, archers behind. A scout was detailed to ‘get those cells open’ and Branson dropped into a crouch to pick the locks on the manacled Templars. Benna glanced wildly around, trying to find somewhere she could help. She placed herself deliberately between the stairs and the prisoners, casting a personal barrier, just in case. 

They waited in tense silence, broken by the scrape of uneven footsteps and the  _ clink _ of locks being opened. Whoever it was finally rounded the final turn. “Commander, ambush…” A scout. Lily, Benna thought her name was. Her helmet was missing, a wound on her scalp the obvious cause of the blood sheeting down the side of her face, giving her a gruesome half mask. She kept one arm clamped to her side; cramp or injury, Benna couldn't be sure. 

“More monsters?” Cullen asked quickly. At Lily's nod, the crease between his eyes got deeper. “They followed you?” Before she could answer, a thunder of feet and inhuman roars answered his question. Lily was shuffled back through the ranks to Benna’s side as everyone else braced for impact, aware that these things had the high ground. “Box them in! Walk of Death!” Cullen’s shouted order caused a quick and decisive movement. The soldiers set themselves up into a short corridor, three ranks deep. Every other man held a shield which he overlapped with his neighbours’. The remaining half helped brace the wall with any long weapons they had, preparing swords and daggers in their free hands. The scouts coalesced in the middle of the room, at the far end of the ‘corridor’. If something made it past all the swords, it would be destroyed by the scouts’ daggers. 

Benna reached for Lily. “Are you wounded anywhere else?” The golden fire swept over the woman's skull, kitting the skin back together. 

“Took a chunk of crystal to the ribs - some of those bastards throw them like daggers.” Benna was already tugging the offending piece out, her soul shuddering as she touched it. The fire swept out again. 

“Be careful,” she warned Lily. “I don't have time to do a thorough job. You could tear it open again.” The woman nodded her thanks, slipping into the mob of scouts before Benna could say anything more. 

And then, with a roar and a crashing impact that rolled through the ranks, the monsters arrived. She couldn't see what was happening, but she could hear it. So much worse than anything she had ever heard. Even a concert crowd had nothing on this. Roaring, shrieking, cackling lyrium monsters clashed with shouting, praying, fighting soldiers who were all swearing steadily. A few had even begun a sort of rhythmic chant. It was overwhelming. It echoed off the walls. The clang of weapons on shields, the scrape of steel on bone or crystal, the gruesome sound of soft parts being slashed and stabbed and punctured… all she wanted to do was hide with her hands over her ears. 

But she couldn't. Within seconds, wounded soldiers were being passed down to her. Some she could heal quickly, just a nasty cut, but what could she do about the man with his belly cut, intestines spilling out? Or the slashed artery? Or the shattered knee? She didn't have time! The prisoners were mostly free now, but completely without armour or weapons of any kind; even rocks. And some still needed healing!

All her fear and frustration were welling up inside her, mixing with her magic and creating such a volatile mix that she was honestly afraid of herself. Enough! She pushed to her feet, dropped someone's severed fingers into a pocket, absently thinking they'd probably want them back eventually. She turned to Dirge, who had been at her side the entire time.

“You'll have to carry me after this.” His expression of calm stoicism barely changed, but she caught the slight widening of his eyes as she turned away. Dropping her staff to the floor, she started to build a fireball between her hands. The biggest she'd ever conjured. Even bigger than that. But this was special. If magic was just will and desire made solid, this was healing, made  _ real _ . 

She hauled magic from her soul. More than she realised she had. The ball grew larger, more, bigger. It grew larger than she could hold, so she pushed it out to float in front of her. She had almost bottomed out. A single note sounded in her mind, impossibly sweet. It pulled the final dregs of power from her heart. The ball was now almost six feet across. It would have to do. With a scream of pain and fear and effort and anger, she let it go. 

It  _ exploded _ outwards. The magic shot through the room like a miniature supernova. For the soldiers, every injury was healed, down to minor bruises. For the Templar prisoners, who were weaker and their wounds were older, their most serious wounds were healed, and many of them felt a surge of energy. They stood straighter and reached out to help each other walk. 

Benna saw enough to know that her spell had worked. She was already reaching for Dirge. Her vision swam, colours bleeding into one another. She barely registered Cullen's shout of alarm before she blacked out, yet again. 

_ I really need to stop doing this…. _

 

\----------

 

Dirge tried to suppress the eye roll, but it was impossible. If the Commander hadn't expected something like this, well, he'd have to reevaluate his opinion on his leader’s intellect. Anyone could see that Lady B hadn't been alright since that little duck pond. She'd been avoiding sleeping, desperately trying to be helpful, healing  _ pinched fingers.  _ Andraste’s mercy, they should be thankful that this was all she'd done; he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd tried to heal the fucking  _ monsters _ . Concerned and worried of course, but not surprised. 

And the Commander was trying to stare at her without being run through. Dirge caught his eye for a split second as Benna reached for him. She was fucking  _ smiling _ . He grabbed her, dropping his sword in the process. His ears were ringing from her scream. It had risen even above the roar of battle. “Branson! Get over here!” The elf glanced up and immediately slipped to his side, pulling two wickedly sharp daggers. 

A presence on his other side made Dirge shift defensively, turning a shoulder to protect the now unconscious Lady B. “Don't worry!” One of the prisoners yelled into his ear. “We'll protect her!” He caught Branson’s sceptical look, and he agreed. None of them had so much as a…

Dagger. A pile of weapons dropped to the ground in front of them with a clatter he could hear even over the roar of battle. Someone was there. “Let them help. They want to.” 

The figure was gone, vanishing into the chaos. The Templars wasted no time in taking advantage of the unexpected bounty, passing weapons through the crowd. The boy Lady B had healed first took a heavy mace and planted himself solidly on Dirge’s other side. “Don't hit her with a Smite. It could kill her in this condition!” Barris gave him a nod as his team set themselves between him and the scouts, shuffling Dirge and the unconscious Benna to the back. 

An animal growl, abruptly choked off, made him turn in alarm. Someone pulled their daggers from the throat of a lyrium monster, vanishing back into stealth. “Rogues! Be on your guard!” 

 

\----------

 

Cullen swore viciously. All the curses learned from the docks of Kirkwall, vile epithets even the most hardened of soldiers might blanch at. The semi-controlled chaos was swirling with monsters. That was good. “The Maker would have to dredge your shrivelled excuse of a soul -” He parried a swipe from a wicked set of claws and countered with a stab that crunched through a crystalline rib cage, “- from the bottom of a cesspit!” He could see his soldiers staring at him, but he couldn't stop. He was too angry. What kind of idiot  _ ensures  _ that she would fall unconscious  _ in the middle of a blighted battle _ ? He jerked his sword free with a satisfying grinding squelch and glanced up to find his next victim. “Drown in the Taint!” He hit the thing with the pommel of his sword, so hard that he snapped its neck. 

That was too much. He needed to calm down. He wasn't a Berserker. He couldn't just roar and scream and drown in blood until his rage was exhausted. He was the Commander, and everyone here, including that  _ infuriating _ woman, needed him to stay calm enough to get them out of this alive. 

“Stepping back!” 

“Right!” 

In a smooth and well-practised motion, he ducked to the left as a fresh soldier moved to take his place in the line. Despite the circumstances, he felt a twinge of pride in how well his soldiers were working together. The endless hours of training they'd all sweated for and complained about were paying off. He shook himself free of the press and took a moment to breathe and assess the situation. His heart was pounding to match the throbbing in his temples. 

But they were holding. Very few wounded so far, and the flood of enemies was beginning to slow. He paced around the edge of the battle, absently wiping at the blood that splattered his face and arms, keeping his eyes on those fighting. He just wanted to get a good perspective. Behind the nest of scouts, he was surprised to find the former prisoners, most of them armed if not armoured. They all looked a lot better thanks to Benna's spell. He turned that thought away before it really started. 

The man who had spoken to before stepped up beside him. Barris. “What's your deposition?”

“All on their feet, Ser. Most armed with steel and able to fight or run. Those who aren't have two partners who can help them get out.” 

Cullen nodded, impressed with the man’s leadership and reminded again that Templars were the best-trained fighting force in Thedas. “Good. Be ready to run. If this is the opening dance I don't want to be here for the main event.” Returning Barris’ nod, he finally allowed himself to look at Benna. 

Dirge had her slung across his chest, guarded on either side by Branson and one of the Templars. No doubt she'd won them over in the thirty seconds he'd taken his eyes off her. Dirge met his eyes solemnly, inclining his head in a gesture meant to reassure. His fingers twitched with the desire to check on her. Cullen was still boiling with rage and fear, but he nodded back and turned away, allowing his eyes to linger,  _ just for a moment _ , on her face. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but she didn't seem to have the deathly grey pallor she'd had after the Mire. She would be alright, he told himself. Dirge and Branson had her.

He turned back to the battle to find that there were only three monsters remaining. Two fell as he watched, but the third was dispatched only after it sliced a blade on its wrist deep into a young soldiers arm. “Hold! Stand guard!” His voice echoed in the sudden quiet. “Uninjured, guard the door! Scouts, assist the wounded. Get them walking; I'm not hanging about here to see if those beauties had friends.” 

\----------

What followed was far too much like one of his nightmares. A hellish run through the fortress, supporting the wounded, killing those who attacked from shadowy rooms. Cullen blessed Divine Justinia many times over for the armour protecting his back; several times rogues crept up behind the party and targeted him as the last in line. They sent up a flare in a courtyard, letting the gatehouse team know they were coming. Benna was still unconscious, Lily was failing. And they couldn't. Find. The. Maker. Damned. Door! 

Finally, one of their forward scouts gave a shout. They staggered out into the yard where they'd left their extra equipment. No time for that now. “Sergeant Rath’s squad, to me! We’ll form a rearguard until the wounded get to the gatehouse.” And they came. Staggering, breathless, gulping water or illicit spirits, but they came, and set themselves up around him. It still amazed Cullen sometimes. He was just a farm boy from Ferelden; how could he  _ possibly  _ have command of all these people? 

They waited, listening as the others staggered the final few hundred metres. All seemed quiet, but he wasn't about to falter at the last. The best time to ambush someone was when they thought they were safe. 

Finally, he heard the horn call that told him the rest had made it. The squad retreated in good order, keeping their eyes on the yard. When they got within bowshot, he sent them inside, waiting until the last before stepping in himself, slamming the door behind them. His head pounded, but he had more to do. 

\----------

Benna awoke slowly, hours later. Cullen was beside her, and noticed her stirring. “Good, you're awake.” His voice was blank, his face grey. “We know where the Templars went. They've become those monsters. All of them. And they're marching to Haven.”


	40. In Which There Is An Uneasy Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there everyone! Everything's reaching boiling point. Be ready, the next few chapters are... shall we say, explosive?
> 
> As always, a thousand thanks to Fire_Kitten, who's my cheerleader/support system/proofreader/massive fan.
> 
> To arms!

They rode for a week. What had taken them ten days before now had to be done in six. Benna was sure that Ferelden had many fine qualities, but her most enduring impression was of endless dirt roads and rain. Riding that hard for that long was miserable enough, but the smell of wet horse and wet armour and wet self made it more so. Add in unfamiliar horses and her misery was complete. 

Worse, Cullen was distant and cold. She knew that he was obsessing over Haven and the attack, but she could  _ feel  _ his anger with her, specifically. But he wouldn't talk to her. He snapped and dismissed her when she tried on the road, and they were all so exhausted when they stopped for their all too brief four hours of sleep that they almost fell asleep standing up. By the third day, she was too weary to try. 

The Templars and injured soldiers were left behind with orders to send messages and follow the main group at their own pace. Benna's beloved Nunis was with them; she wouldn't have been able to keep up with the gruelling pace. 

Eventually, they all fell into a grimly silent state. They rode. That was all. The emptiness gave Benna the impression that they were trapped on a giant treadmill, all that effort yet going nowhere. Her ‘Earth life’ wasn't any different. Hunter hadn't come back to the house that she had seen, and she had fallen into a routine; work, eat, stare blankly at the phone, sleep. Repeat. She didn't know what she was waiting for, exactly, but she knew in her bones that he wasn't gone for good. She was just waiting for the next episode to start. 

Finally, on the morning of the sixth day, the road started to climb. They left the banks of Lake Calenhad and crawled the last few miles. All Benna could think about was getting off this horse and seeing her family. She needed a week just to cry and sleep and absorb everything that had happened. It wasn't even a month, but she felt like she'd aged five years just in the Mire. She fixed her gaze on the next turn in the road and rode with grim determination. 

This homecoming was completely different to Evvy’s when she returned from Val Royeaux. She and the children were waiting near the stables, but Benna was struggling to find the joy. Evvy looked as bad as she felt; dark circles ringed her eyes and her smile was a weak imitation of her usual grin. When Benna slid down to hug her friend she could tell that she'd lost weight too. Blinking back tears of relief, she hugged and kissed the children. Even they seemed aware that something was wrong. Shae gave quick orders to the waiting recruits, Benna's reigns were taken from her hand and the little family began to walk to their little house.

Until Cullen strode past, barking “Advisors meeting, right now. You too, Benna.” They watched him march up the steps and into Haven proper and gave each other helpless looks. Sighing, they dumped her bags in the cottage, hugged the children and stumbled up to the Chantry. Benna was so tired that she couldn't keep her head up. But she could feel the unease in the air. Haven was preparing for something bad; the people yet again in harm's way. Messengers rushed back and forth, workers dragged huge sacks along the paths, Segrett was packing up his stall. But she was just too weary to care much.

As they passed requisitions, Evvy took her hand. “I missed you.” Wordlessly, Benna squeezed back, fighting off tears. She would not cry in public. 

\----------

Thankfully, due to the messages Cullen had sent on the road, Leliana and Josephine had been able to work with Cullen's subordinates and plan for the coming attack. That there would be an attack wasn't in question apparently; everyone took it for granted and prepared accordingly. An evacuation plan was drawn up, non-combatants were briefed, shooting platforms were erected and vital supplies stored in the Chantry. 

Benna felt surplus to requirements, only there to confirm Cullen's words. She stood against the wall and waited. And waited. A quiet murmur sounded in her ear. “I need her where I can see her. Maker, if I lost her…” she jerked her head away, the impression of faded blue eyes lingering. She turned the words over in her mind. Perhaps that was why Cullen had called her in. It was… sweet, but he obviously wasn't thinking about her needs. She caught Evvy's eye, smiled and left quietly, heading back to the cabin. She didn't need healing magic to know that she was stretched past her breaking point. 

\----------

Evvy's return jerked her out of a doze. The children were finally asleep, after twittering like sparrows for hours. They'd enjoyed staying with the mages, but had obviously missed her. The drawings they'd waved in her face and the ‘pretty rocks’ they'd found had been scattered on the floor, along with a few flowers Shae had picked and a piece of bread. Benna just didn't have the energy to tidy up. 

It appeared that Evvy didn't either. She just dropped into the other chair by the fire and put her head in her hands, letting out a shuddering sigh. “Every time I thought we were done, someone came up with another thing to argue about.” Benna wordlessly handed her a sandwich and some dried fruit, followed by a mug of snowmelt ale. Her friend ate mechanically, staring into the fire. “Redcliff was… beyond awful, really. I don't think I have the words…” Evelynne trailed off, casting a glance at the sleeping children. She slowly stood, motioning for Benna to come with her as she pulled her coat on. It might be late summer, but Haven was still high enough to have a chill in the air. It was a relief from the cloying heat of the lowlands. 

Outside, Evvy glanced around, obviously debating where to go. Benna motioned to her, using a barrel at the back of the house to reach the low roof. Cautiously, they crawled as quietly as possible to the chimney, settling with their backs to the warm brick. Benna wrapped her arms around her knees, looking up at the endless stars. 

“Therinfal was… horrific. I don't know if Cullen described them to you, but the Templars… they aren't human anymore. They're twisted.” She dug her fingers into her biceps, the tears she'd been fighting beginning to fall. “And Cullen is angry with me because I used too much magic, and he won't talk to me. And in the Mire, I… I  _ killed  _ someone, Evvy! I never thought I could, but I did! He screamed as he burned…” she couldn't continue. Evelynne wrapped her arms around Benna and just held her as she cried. It was long minutes before she could control herself again. 

When their sobs quieted, Evelynne began to speak. “Redcliff… it was supposed to be easy. A quick ambush and a surprise and we'd be done. But… Alexus used his time magic. Dorian tried to stop it, but we still... Creators, it sounds so insane… we fell into the future. It was… fucked up.” Benna let out a watery laugh of surprise. “Benna, everyone died. Cullen's head was on a pike, Cassandra and Solas and Varric were corrupted like the Templars you saw. I saw Leliana being  _ tortured _ . But… they died for me! They knew they'd be slaughtered and they still fought for me! Fucking  _ smiling _ .” 

It was Evvy's turn to break down. She was crying so hard Benna almost couldn't understand her next words. “How can I live up to that? How can I possibly be  _ worthy  _ of that? And you…” she looked up. “Benna, Leliana said you'd become an abomination. When I vanished. There was nothing left of you. She said… she said they'd had to kill you themselves, before you destroyed everything.” 

Benna felt fear wrap its claws around her heart. There was nothing she could say. She just hugged Evvy tighter, rocking her gently as the stars wheeled overhead and the world turned towards morning.


	41. In Which Benna Considers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! It's been about two weeks since I posted. I'm trying to get the next few chapters arranged right - conclusions are on their way I promise. I'm going to do my best to get the next one out within the week.
> 
> Thanks as always to the lovely Fire_Kitten who's my eternal cheerleader and (possibly) biggest fan. 
> 
> And a huge thank you to all my readers who leave kudos and comments - I love seeing all your speculation and support for Benna. Though I agree that Hunter deserves to be thrown in a hole and forgotten about.
> 
> XxX

With an assault on Haven taken as scripture, plans for closing the Breach were pushed forward. The monster army wasn't expected to arrive for another few days, maybe a week, but no one wanted to risk it. The village buzzed like a kicked beehive. Messengers and workers dashed back and forth, packing up everything that could be moved and collecting bags from the residents. Josephine and Cullen had decided that everyone should pack one bag, with whatever they chose to put in it as long as they could lift it, in case of an emergency. Everything else was to be stored somewhere safe, so if they were forced to leave they could come back for it. Predictably, this made no one happy. The cooks wanted extra room for pots and pans, the smiths complained that their tools were heavier than most, and the mages wailed that their books and research were irreplaceable. When they weren't arguing amongst themselves, anyway. 

The Haven Mages Collective had been joined by their fellows from Redcliff, and the merger was not going well. Elsin, desperate to keep the small modicum of authority he had gained, bustled around barking orders and being terribly condescending. Grand Enchanter Fiona, who Benna was introduced to in the middle of an argument, was steadfast in her refusal to be dismissed; she had led her mages through a war, and wasn't about to be dictated to by a blowhard. Compounding the problem was the fact that the mages had been offered a full alliance with the Inquisition. No one seemed to be sure of what that meant, or whether the Mages Collective was included. Benna was pulled away from her own packing to mediate, but she had very little to offer. Evelynne was shut away in the Chantry with the Advisors, planning both the battle and the assault on the Breach, and Benna was unwilling to disturb them. 

The situation was only made worse when Solas arrived to discuss the spell they'd be using to close the Breach. It seemed like every mage in the world was down by the lake, arguing about everything from his apostasy to whether they should use staffs to an in-depth theoretical debate about what the Breach actually  _ was.  _ Benna realised just how ignorant she was; all of her training had been practical, with absolutely no discussion about what magic was or how it worked. 

She scribbled down a few notes and left as gracefully as possible, trying to avoid getting sucked in any further. Cassandra was at the training grounds, hitting the dummies with even more force than usual, her eyebrows locked together in a scowl. Benna stopped beside her when she looked up. “Don't allow yourself to be sucked into that.” The warrior said gruffly. “Most mages have never lived outside the Circle, and the Inquisition has so far given them no guidance. They must make these decisions for themselves and find a suitable leader.”

Benna nodded slowly. “But aren't I part of it anyway? I'm a mage too.” 

“You are in a unique position here in Haven. You are an apostate, yet still accepted. I have no doubt that should you have wished it you could have taken control and become their leader.”

Benna snorted and shook her head. Why in the name of Evvy's Creators would she want  _ that _ ? Cassandra looked over at her sharply. “But you are also close to Cullen and the Herald, both of whom seek your advice, and you have the trust of Josephine and myself. That gives you more influence than many would care to admit. Somehow, you have gathered friends everywhere. And no one wants to annoy our most powerful healer, especially with the stories the troops have been telling.” Benna cringed internally. She could just imagine what kinds of things they'd be saying. Still, Cassandra had a point. 

“Do you think I should go and help them?” She gestured over at the bickering crowd. The arguments were still going strong, although the children had begun a game that looked similar to tag. Her heart squeezed when she noticed that most of them, especially the new arrivals, seemed to have trouble running. They'd been locked up for most of their lives. 

“I would not say so.” Cassandra decided. “If they are going to live outside the Circle, this process needs to happen. And you have other responsibilities.” Benna sighed at that truth and went to retrieve her two from the roiling mass of children. They still needed to sort out their bags.

 

\----------

 

She and the children finished packing up their rather meagre belongings. Most of their small treasures would have to be left, but they carefully packed them into a chest, ready for storage. The children ran off to play before lunch, leaving Benna alone for the first time in days.  _Weeks_. She pulled out a tunic she'd torn in the Mire and began to repair it, but the busywork failed to distract her mind. She thought over everything that had happened. She still couldn't really understand the fact that she had killed someone. Even if this  _ was  _ all a dream, and at this point it seemed very unlikely, the fact that she'd been able to do it, even with magic, shook her to her core. She could still see his face. 

She dragged her mind away, only to have it land on Hunter. He was always in the back of her mind. An unseen threat or brooding protector? She had never been certain. He had left her a message asking to take her out to dinner the next evening. And she had decided to accept, if only to end the waiting game she'd been playing with herself and him. Benna hoped that seeing him one final time would resolve everything in her mind. Or did she want him back? 

Intellectually, she could concede that he was abusive and it would only get worse. Emotionally… it was harder. She remembered the good things about him, when the whole world had seemed filled with delight, just because he was in it. He'd been handsome and charming and interesting, and he'd treated her like a priceless treasure. They'd stayed up all night, just talking, basking in their togetherness. It was hard to let go of those memories and accept that those times were gone. A part of her insisted that it was just a rough patch, that the handsome prince would return to sweep her off her feet, that he'd never  _ meant  _ to hurt her… 

She struggled with the duality, no closer to understanding  _ anything,  _ even her own mind. Her thoughts were all twisted and tangled when it came to him, love and fear and grief all mixed together. What  _ could  _ she do? Benna blinked back tears. She hated feeling so… helpless.

And then there was Cullen. In the secret depths of her mind, she could admit that she felt  _ something  _ for the Commander. She just wasn't sure what it was and didn't care to analyse it. She knew that  _ he _ didn't really feel anything other than friendship for her; the life he'd lived and the way this world viewed magic made it a miracle that he could even see her as  _ human,  _ not just a dangerous weapon. 

But Benna would do anything to keep from losing his friendship. He supported her and encouraged her and he made her laugh. He was willing to sing stupid songs with her and make sure she got home safely. She could tell that children worried him, but he'd taken the time to show Mal a few moves and had his men keep an eye on them both. She'd taught him how to play backgammon, drawing out a board, and he'd quickly learned how to strategise and win. She wasn't angry at losing; his smug satisfaction was too amusing to resist. 

No, she would do almost anything to avoid losing him. 

She was jolted out of her thoughts by Shae and Mal returning. They both proclaimed that they were starving and couldn't possibly do anything until they were fed, certainly not any chores. Snickering, Benna put her work aside and went with them to the Singing Maiden. Tonight they would close the Breach. 


	42. In Which There Are Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally getting into it! Again, my apologies for the delay. 
> 
> A big squidgy hug for Fire_Kitten, who's got through depression July and come out fighting. She's been a wonderful fan/beta/gossiper - I <3 you. 
> 
> Hopefully you're all having a wonderful summer. 
> 
> Xx

The ‘best’ of the mages slowly edged up the paths towards the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The chill on the wind felt more than just physical; the Temple was now the grave of the best and brightest of an entire generation and the hopes of the Divine. Benna walked beside Evelynne in silence, a new staff in her hand, lending quiet support to her friend. She could tell that Evvy was anxious but trying to hide it behind a blank face and confident strides. A small contingent of soldiers, led by Captain Rylen, were scattered amongst the mages. Cullen had insisted. Benna just hoped that no one realised that he'd sent most of his former Templars. It couldn't be denied that they were outstanding soldiers, but she doubted that the mages would appreciate that fact.

Someone shuffled up through the mud and came up on her other side. A smooth male voice with such a strong upper class accent that Hunter would have hated him instantly, began to speak with no introduction. “So you must be this Lady Benna I've been hearing so much about. Did you know that you've somehow managed to become the most popular mage in Haven? However did you gain your adoring fans?”

Benna turned to look at the speaker. He was very handsome, with Mediterranean good looks; smooth brown skin and dark hair that had been pushed back from his forehead in careful careless disarray. His eyes were a striking grey that sparked with quiet amusement as he studied her right back. The lines of his face, as well as his height and obviously trim physique, indicated that, like Cullen or Josephine, he'd never gone hungry in his life. Benna had seen too many people in Haven, elves and humans, who had been malnourished. His carefully-trimmed moustache, along with his lips, twitched in amusement at her frank perusal.

On her other side, Evelynne snorted. “You're getting ahead of yourself again, Dorian.”

The man laughed. “It seems the South is leeching all of my manners away. Dorian of House Pavus.” He gave Benna a slightly sarcastic half bow, his voice dropping slightly, “Altus of Tevinter, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?”

Benna smiled at his playful tone, and mimicked his bow, even as she jumped over a streamlet of water. “Benna of the Inquisition, mage of nowhere in particular, most recently of Haven.” His laughter rose above their group, drawing glances from the mages behind them.

“By Andraste, that accent is wonderful! I would love to see what my countrymen would make of the two of you; an Elven human and a Dalish who can alter the veil! They'd have a collective heart attack.”

She giggled, already warming to him. “If they're anything like you, that _would_ be a travesty.” She informed him seriously, matching his teasing tone.

Dorian scoffed. “There's no one like me. There's only two good things that ever came out of my homeland; wine and my glorious self. Everything else you can safely dismiss.”

“Of course. My mistake.” She fluttered her eyelashes, adopting an expression of exaggerated awe. “And he is glorious, isn't he, Evvy? Don't you think he should be in a museum somewhere, silently gracing the world with his perfection?”

Evvy giggled back, “He would _have_ to be silent; perhaps we could have him encased in gold?”

Dorian pretended to stagger, one hand clutched to his chest. “Betrayed! Why, I thought you _liked_ my dry wit and gorgeous voice. Besides, the gold you have here in the South is far too impure for such a specimen as myself; it would clash with my skin tone.” All three of them were laughing. “But seriously, I've heard of you, if only through rumours. They say that you have the most unusual magic. I'd like to speak to you about it, when things are less… fraught. Maybe over a drink?”

Benna eyed him. “Are you buying?”

“Ha! A woman after my own heart. Rest assured, I'll provide a decent bottle or two. I think we're going to get on splendidly.”

They bantered back and forth for the rest of the hike, doing their best to distract Evelynne from her anxiety, until they all fell silent as they came to the nightmarish destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

 

\----------

 

Solas was shouting. “Focus your will past the Herald!” He waved his staff in the air like a conductor. For all she knew, maybe he really was directing the magic. Not that she was really listening to the elf; Benna had just been told that she wouldn't be taking part in closing the Breach. Someone somewhere had decided that she would be much more useful kept back, in case Evvy needed healing after the attempt. And they were right, she supposed; even if they could close the Breach, there were still rifts reported all over, and Evvy remained the only person who could close them. They needed to keep her safe. Still, Benna found herself resentful; they should have _asked_ her, not left it until it was too late for her to discuss it. And she didn't even know who had given the order in the first place, though she strongly suspected Cullen.

So she stood to one side with Cassandra and watched as the mages made their final preparations. Evvy stood alone, near the centre of what had once been the great hall of the Temple. The warrior was tense as a bowstring, gripping her sword tightly enough that Benna was sure she'd have an imprint of the pommel on her palm. Cassandra hadn't taken her eyes off Evelynne since they'd arrived, even for a second. And with what happened last time, Benna couldn't blame her. The last thing anyone wanted was to fight another giant pride demon.

Evvy looked so _small_ , so alone as she stood between the others and the Breach. Her slender figure, rimmed in fade green light, seemed impossibly frail, her face ghostly. Unable to resist, Benna jerked her head at Cassandra to follow and marched over to join Evelynne. She needed to know that she was never alone. Evvy glanced at them and gave them a wan smile, the fear and worry in her eyes overwhelming the welcome. “It might not be good for you to be this close to me.”

Benna gave her a _look_. “We stand with you. I believe in you, Evvy.” Cassandra nodded in agreement, stepping up to stand at Evelynne’s right hand. She drew her sword and planted the tip in the earth, coming to attention. The message was clear. Benna smiled at her friend as she moved to Evvy's left, the Marked side, and called on her magic. Wreathed in golden flames, a bright splash of colour in a world tinted green, Solas and the other mages behind them, she faced the Breach, staff in hand.

 

\----------

 

It felt… oddly anticlimactic. The Breach was closed, with a whimper rather than a bang. She'd been expecting more of a fight. Cursing herself under her breath for not playing more of the game, Benna stood and watched the children as they ran through the crowd, sneaking what sweets there were from tables and unattended plates. She caught Mal’s eye as he was about to take a gulp of something eye-watering that Seggrett had had stashed away. The boy looked guilty, put the tin cup down and backed away, glancing back at her to check that she knew he hadn't drunk any. She nodded and he ran, trying to hide in the crush.

“Somehow, this feels… wrong.” Dorian came up behind her, musing out loud. He had a cup of something in one hand and his staff strapped to his back, even though they'd been back in Haven for several hours. “ _Nothing_ your Inquisition has done so far has been _this_ easy; a simple diplomatic mission turned into a nightmare for the Herald and I.”

“True,” she agreed, exchanging nods with one of Josephine’s aides. “I haven't collapsed or fainted even once. The Commander will tell you that _no_ mission is complete without me being carried at some point.”

“And who could blame you?” Dorian smirked as Cullen himself came into view, still clad in his armour and surcoat. He gave Benna a quick smile before he was swallowed by the crowd. “I certainly wouldn't be fighting to get away from _those_ arms.”

Benna felt her cheeks flush. “To be fair, Cullen only carried me once. The second time, I think it was another soldier.”

“How scandalous! You've been throwing yourself at all the men. _Do_ try and leave a few for others, my dear. Greed is a sin, you know.” Benna chuckled at his impression of a Chantry sister. He'd even managed to mimic the way Mother Giselle held herself while moralising.

“If you call expending too much magic and collapsing throwing myself at men, I suppose you're right.” She waved to Branson, dancing an enthusiastic but not terribly skilled jig with a female mage, and then to Dirge, lurking in the shadows like the Ghost of Christmas Futures. With a sword.

“You _do_ know a lot of people.” Dorian observed. “I'd be willing to bet that you know almost everyone down there.” At her disbelieving snort, he pointed at a young man who was waving a stick, pretending to conduct the music. “I bet you know his name and occupation..?”

“Col.” She said shortly, “Employed by Leliana as a scout.”

“Too easy! He's in uniform. What about her?”

“Tracy. Helps in the soldiers mess.” She followed his pointing finger. “Wulf. One of Cullen's. Patricka. Tailor.”

Dorian was laughing. She was fighting it, a grin spreading across her face, when the bell over Haven’s gate started to ring the alarm. Dorian dropped his cup, splashing red liquid across the dirty snow. Strangely, she felt a sense of relief. The other shoe had dropped. She spun around, peering out over the walls to the snow-covered mountains surrounding them, swearing out loud as she spotted countless torches. The attack had started. The Templar monsters were here.

Benna looked around, her heart beating wildly, hoping to find an officer or _someone_ in charge. But everyone was just staring around in surprise, murmuring questions to each other. If the Templar army was here… Shit.

She stepped up to the edge of the wall and sent up a flare of magic to catch everyone's attention. She shouted over the continued tolling of the bell. “Children, to me! Soldiers, scouts and combat mages, to the walls! Everyone else, grab your emergency bag and get to the Chantry. _Move_!”

The little square exploded into motion, people scrambling in all directions as they tried to follow her instructions. Some were unarmed, running back to their homes for weapons and armour, others were racing straight for the Chantry, terrified. She gave Dorian a distracted nod as he left for the walls at a run, watching as the square emptied and trying to listen beyond that damned bell. When she looked down, she found at least thirty children gathered near the wall. She suppressed a smile; she'd only meant to call _her_ children, but being the adopted aunt of Haven was apparently enough to get _all_ of them. She frowned as she looked at them; some were crying, frightened by the dark and loud noises and sudden fear. There were even a few adults, either parents or people just looking for someone in charge or clever enough to stick close to a Healer.

“How many of you,” she called out, keeping her voice calm with an effort, “can run to your house and back in two minutes?” Over half of them raised their hands. She nodded. “Grab any emergency bags you can carry, then get back here. If you're delayed, try to get to the Chantry. You have two minutes. _Run_!”

They scattered, leaving Benna with a handful of children. She directed them to run to the only building with stone walls, pulling them up onto the wall beside her so they'd have a clear line of sight. She counted the seconds, straining her senses as she heard Cullen's distinctive bellow. “... have sanction to… the Herald! For…” his voice was buried in a roar from the defenders. She spared a second to pray for the people fighting, resisting the feeling that she ought to be on the wall with the other mages.

Mal and Shae returned, touting not only their bags but hers and Evvy's as well. They'd even released Mr Croaker, the raven that Leliana had assigned to the Herald. Benna could only hope that the bird made it out safely. She took the extra bags from them, hugged them tightly and sent them off to the Chantry to join the others.

The two minutes were running short. She hadn't had time to take a headcount, but she was uneasily aware that she hadn't seen all the children come back yet. She didn't want to think about what could have happened to them. But she couldn't do anything to look for them without leaving others vulnerable. Cursing under her breath, she slung the bags on her back and started towards the walls, ready to throw fire until she couldn't anymore.

She stopped short as she felt the ground shudder under her feet, leaning against a hut for balance. It felt like an earthquake… the trebuchets. She felt a flash of cold fear as she realised that the soldiers must have set off an avalanche. They could bury Haven! It seemed to go on and on, screams echoing across the valley. Benna hardly dared move.

The rumblings died away, leaving a pregnant silence, broken by cheers from the defenders. She sagged with relief, took two steps and stumbled, clutching at her ears. An unnatural screech rang out, so loud and laced with magic that it was impossible to ignore. Benna pressed her hands against her ears, desperately trying to block the sound that was burning it's way into her mind, digging through her defences, looking for the very heart of her…

It cut off, only to be followed by a fireball that crashed down into the centre of Haven. It wasn't _natural_ ; the flames were an unpleasant dull red, streaked with black… her magic welled up inside her, surging out to try and combat the unnatural fire… “ _Dragon_!” Someone screamed from the wall. She fought a wild urge to laugh. Of course it was a fucking dragon, did they think that anyone had missed it? And why had no one told her that dragons were actually really _real_? Sure, the game was called Dragon Age but seriously, what the fuck.

Cullen's voice rang out. “Fall back to the Chantry!” That, she decided, was very good advice indeed. She turned and began running, fighting to keep her magic contained as the dragon made several more passes over Haven, which was no longer any kind of haven at all…

 

\----------

 

Benna fought her way through the crowds to reach the front doors. Cullen and Josephine were directing everyone to follow the soldiers deeper into the building. They seemed to have a plan to get everyone out. But Evvy wasn't moving. She stood near the doors with a few of the companions she'd found over the last few months. She was trying to smile, but it was crumbling around the edges. Her eyes were full of something Benna didn't want to contemplate. But she could tell that Evvy wasn't planning on going with them.

Benna shoved free of the main crowd and took a moment to breathe deeply. Cullen and Evelynne had their heads together, looking strained. She marched up to them and looked Evvy right in the eye. “I'm going with you.”

“No,” they snapped in unison. They eyed each other for a moment. Evvy won. “You can't come with me, Benna.”

“Yes I can. You'll probably need me.”

Her friend shook her head. “What about the children? Or the soldiers who were injured? They need you more.” Benna felt her eyes fill with tears.

She shook her head stubbornly, unable to form enough words. “You aren't ready for this,” Cullen told her, seriously. “You haven't trained enough, and the others cannot be distracted looking after you. You'd threaten the mission.” Benna gasped in shock and glared at him. How _dare_ he? She'd pulled his fat out of the fire on more than one occasion.

She turned to Evelynne. “But what happens if you need a healer? You're going to fight a dragon! I'll stay out of sight, I promise!” _Please don't leave me here_. But Evvy was shaking her head, tears leaving streaks through the splatters of blood on her cheeks. Before she could argue any more, Benna was caught up in a hug, their tears mixing. She felt Evvy’s body shaking as she suppressed her sobs. “Stay with Cullen.” Her friend ordered her firmly. “Thank you for everything.” Before she could protest, Evvy turned and walked away, motioning to her team.

“Herald,” Cullen called. “If we are to stand a chance, let that thing hear you.” With a final nod, Benna's best friend in _any_ world slipped through the doors and into the night. Without thinking, Benna started forward, unable or unwilling to just let her go. Cullen caught her arm. “Benna,” his voice broke. “I'm so sorry.” She turned to look at him, to _demand_ that he let her go, but he surprised her. So quickly that she almost didn't see the motion, he threw a handful of powder into her face.

Benna inhaled in shock, all the strength draining out of her limbs. Her mind spun. _He drugged me_! She felt him catch her as she crumpled, dropping yet another staff to the floor. Her last, ridiculous thought was that at least they could call this mission finished, before she sank into darkness.


	43. In Which A Meal Is Eaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy this was difficult. I've been planning this chapter since the beginning, but that didn't make it any easier to write. 
> 
> I love you all and I can't believe I made it this far! Every single comment and kudo is a balm to my heart. 
> 
> Much love to Fire_Kitten as always, although she hasn't seen any of this bit. 
> 
> Xx

Cullen watched as Benna crumpled into Branson’s arms. The look of shocked betrayal on her face tore at his heart, but he'd had no choice. Quite apart from his responsibility to the Inquisition as its Commander, meaning that he had the right and duty to ensure its survival, the Herald had forced him to swear to look after Benna, even though they both knew that she would demand to go out there and face the Elder One herself. That couldn't be allowed. For one thing, Benna was still mostly untrained; she wasn't ready to face a battle like this. It would have got the entire team killed, just trying to protect her. And she was the best Healer they had, and she had two children depending on her. And without Evelynne…

He pulled his thoughts away, motioning Branson and his team to get Benna out of there. He took one last look at the doors, torn between duty and conscience. He knew how she felt, but he had to do what was best for the Inquisition. And so did Benna, even if she refused to listen to her head sometimes. Shaking free of his thoughts, he made one last sweep of the Chantry, just in case they'd missed someone or something, then reluctantly followed the last of his men down to the cellar and their way out.

 

\----------

 

Benna woke slowly, unsure of where she was. She chuckled sleepily. Most people didn't have multiple options; they woke up where they fell asleep. She wasn't even sure which _world_ she was waking to.

  
She sat up as everything came back in a rush. Cullen had drugged her! And Evelynne… she let out a sob. Evelynne hadn't left with them. She'd gone to face the Elder One and his dragon… _without_ her. Maybe if she went back to sleep, she'd be in time?

  
Only sleep refused to come. Benna lay in bed for far too long, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't shut her mind off, too busy alternating between worry and anger. She understood Cullen's reasoning, if she was honest, but she wasn't feeling very reasonable at the moment. How _dare_ he take away her choices? What kind of sociopath decides that _drugging_ someone is the best way to win an argument?

  
She sat up again with a huff, and checked her phone for the time. Hunter had texted her. _I'll pick you up at 6. See you later._ Frowning, she unlocked her phone. Oh. Their ‘date’. Why had she agreed again? She'd wanted to talk to him, see if there was anything left of her feelings for him. She wavered, her thumb hovering over the screen, considering cancelling; she wasn't sure she was in the right frame of mind to deal with him… but no. She needed to sort this out, for the sake of her sanity if nothing else. Boldly, she replied. _That sounds good. See you later._ With a decisive tap, the message was sent.

  
That decided, she stumbled out of bed to peer at the mirror. Creators, she looked worse than she thought! Her face still bore the imprint of the pillow across her pale skin, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes were tired, dark rings surrounding them, even though in theory she'd just slept for eight hours. She scowled at herself; she looked rather more than half dead. And her hair… she despaired of her hair. It looked like a fluffy monster trying to eat her and itself, curls flying off in random directions. She rather missed the red highlights she had in Thedas; they at least made her hair look interesting.

  
Nope. She refused to deal with that haystack until she'd had a shower and caffeine. Not necessarily in that order.

 

\----------

 

The day passed in a haze. She tried to play Dragon Age, just to make sure that Evvy would be okay, but broke down into tears when she saw her friend's digital face. She couldn't continue.

  
An email from Charity. Lots of cheerful chaos and happy photos. Benna couldn't concentrate enough to reply. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, she'd know…

  
She opened the door at 6:10. Hunter was late. Benna wondered if he'd done it on purpose, to make her worry. They looked each other up and down. He seemed… fine. She was taken aback by how completely okay he looked. Surely he should have missed her, even a little bit? They'd been together for years…

  
He raised an eyebrow at her, then smiled that familiar smile and gestured towards his familiar car. “I'm so glad you came.” She smiled back, checked her hair in the hall mirror and left the house, locking the door behind her. Benna looked up at his handsome face. He really was a very good looking man. But he was cold, somehow, where Cullen -

  
She cut that thought short. She couldn't afford that, not now. Her smile growing a bit brittle around the edges, they walked over to the car and climbed in. She shut the car door with a gentle thump and settled into the passenger seat, looking over at Hunter. “Where are we going?”

  
“The Lily Pond.”

  
Surprised, she raised her eyebrows. The Lily Pond was a high-end Asian fusion restaurant in the next city, with a reputation for beautiful design, both in its decor and its food. And, more to the point, she thought wryly, known for its selection of exotic (and expensive) alcohol. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he could afford it, but bit the question back. It would only offend him. Instead, she nodded appreciatively, trying to seem enthusiastic. She barely had the energy for him, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings and start an argument. And especially not before they ate.

  
They drove in awkward silence for a while, until the weight of the quiet pushed words out of Benna’s mouth. “So… how have you been?” She cringed at the inanity, wanting to slap herself. What kind of question was that?

  
His lips curved into a smile. She couldn't read his face. “Fine. How's work?”

  
Relieved, she happily chattered about her job and the people around her for the whole twenty minutes of the journey. He was engaged and interested, asking thoughtful questions about her job and offering insightful solutions to small problems. She was delighted - this was what she'd hoped for from the day she received the promotion, the day after her first dream of Thedas. That thought niggled at her for some reason, but she pushed it away. She relaxed, chatting more naturally, enjoying his familiar presence. He'd been her only real family for a long time, and she'd missed this.

  
The Lily Pond was an eclectic yet harmonious mixture of modern and traditional Far Eastern styles. The walls were cream, with slightly darker lines that suggested cranes and bamboo plantations. The seating was soft brown leather, tables for two and four scattered at a discreet distance from each other. A small trickle of water fell from the ceiling in one corner, dancing over a careless tumble of grey rocks. But it was the lighting that captured Benna's fancy the most. A glass Chinese dragon, with tiny lights at its paws and mouth, twirled in an endless dance with a brilliant phoenix. Both of the legendary creatures were perfect in every detail, lit from above and within. Yin and Yang, the perfect duo. Benna spent several minutes just staring, until she half convinced herself that they would actually move.

  
The food was truly delicious - and beautiful. Benna had always loved the flavours of Asia, and she enjoyed trying out the new combinations created by the restaurant. But once they had exhausted the possibilities of conversation concerning the restaurant, the food, their respective work, they fell into an awkward silence. She twisted her fingers in her skirt, scanning his face.

  
“I missed you,” he finally said softly, running a finger around the rim of his glass. Benna's heart twisted. She'd missed him too. Before she could respond, he met her eyes. “I want to forget this silly fight, and come home. Please, it's my home too.” Guilt wrapped around her. She'd barely thought about that. They'd lived together for three years, bought a house together. She'd been sure that it would be forever. And he'd been exiled from his own home.

  
But… _was_ it a silly fight?

  
Unsure, she took a sip of the strong liquor Hunter had ordered for them as a taster. Barely suppressing a cough, she glanced up and was caught by his eyes. They were hypnotic. She opened her mouth to reply and closed it again, unable to find a good response. His eyes hardened. “You're being selfish.”

  
Benna lowered her eyes, staring into her glass. He was right, really. She _was_ being selfish. But was that a bad thing? Shouldn't she protect herself? Did she need to protect herself from him? She loved him…

  
When she didn't reply, he took over the conversation, reminiscing about their past. Trips they'd taken, inside jokes, gifts and parties. She did her best, but she found it hard to engage fully. Do you remember? Do you remember? She remembered. She could still feel the cold tile against her hands, the stiffness in her body after sleeping on the deck chair, the heartbreak when she'd heard him on the phone… perhaps they could move on, perhaps she could forgive… but she would forever be looking for the sneer, the rage, the _fist_.

  
Cullen's face burst into her mind, eyes kind but intent. _You shouldn't have to be thinking about defending yourself from someone you love._ He'd told her that, back by the duck pond, before Therinfal. And she would be, always ready to duck and dodge and protect herself, her heart if not her body. So… did she love Hunter? Could there really _be_ love anymore? She quietly refused another glass of liquor. She didn't want to blur her judgment or say the wrong thing.

  
Benna smiled at Hunter, feeling… nothing. “I had a wonderful time, but I think we need to get going. It's getting late.” He was all smiles and charm as he paid for their meal, chivalrously escorting her to the door, helping her with her jacket, taking her arm as they strolled back to his car. His voice was just a touch too loud; he'd had more alcohol than she had, but not too much.

  
As she settled herself in the passenger seat, he leaned across the console and caressed her cheek. She froze, unsure. “Benna, I'm so happy we're getting back together.” Her eyes widened as he leaned further, his breath, heavy with spices and spirits, tickling her nose. He wanted to kiss her! She pushed back but he followed, crowding her against the door. He wasn't taking the hint, so she put a hand to his chest and _shoved_. 

That got through. He rocked back in surprise. “Hunter, I just want to go home, please. I can't think right now.” His face darkened, but he sat back and started the car, scowling into the night as he pulled out of the city and onto the highway. He glanced over at her. “I really do want you back, you know. I thought that you agreed.”

  
Benna sighed. “I didn't agree. Honestly, I don't think that getting back together would make either of us happy.”

  
His face turned incredulous. “Happy?” His voice was a snarl. “Who the fuck cares about _happy_? You're _mine_ , Benna. Always have been. You think I'd just let you go?”

  
She stared at him, shock and anger twisting in her gut. “I think that I belong to nobody but myself. You don't get to decide for me that we're in a relationship!” Sarcastic laughter cut her off, the sound causing creeping fingers of fear down her spine.

  
“We’re not in a relationship. I just want what's mine.”

  
“I'm not yours!” Her voice was shrill.

  
“You are.” There was no doubt in his voice. No give. It was dark and menacing. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was his real voice, not the charming face he showed the rest of the world. “You'll always be mine, and you'll never be rid of me, little bird. I wanted to do this the pretty way, but you're just too stupid to understand. So I'll take you home, just like you wanted, and then I'll fuck you until you remember who you belong to.”

  
“I DO NOT BELONG TO YOU!” Her heart almost beat out of her chest, slamming against her ribs in fear. She finally saw beneath the mask, and it was cold and empty. She didn't know what to do. Her throat hurt from the force of her scream. She needed to get away. But she was trapped in the car with him, doing seventy miles an hour. There was no way to escape until he slowed down. She gulped air, trying to stay calm. This was worse than the fucking dragon.

  
The dragon… the tickle in her mind. What was it?

  
Hunter laughed into the silence. “Finally getting it, are you?” He looked over, peering at her face, half hidden by her hair. “If you're good, you might even enjoy it. You like a bit of pain…” he laughed again at the fear in her eyes, his enjoyment of her terror far too evident. He cupped himself with one hand. “I'm already hard, just thinking about the pretty screams you'll make when I…”

  
Benna screamed directly into his face, putting all her fear and anger and hatred into the sound. She reached for her absent magic as a reflex, memories of power giving her strength. Her voice was like a physical thing between them, rising to an uncomfortable pitch.

  
Hunter flinched back from the assault. He raised his hands to his ears to try and block the sound.

  
The reflex was a fatal mistake.

  
Benna's scream cut off as the car hit the railing. The sound of grinding metal drowned out the world. The car flipped, rolling over and over. Glass flew everywhere as the windshield shattered. Benna covered her face with her hands, too shocked and terrified to even cry out. The car landed on its roof, but continued to tumble, end over end, down the embankment. It felt like it would never stop.

  
When they finally came to rest, Benna couldn't tell up from down, left from right, Heaven from Hell. Gasping, she turned her head, looking for Hunter. He was still in the driver's seat, clutching at the steering wheel. He stared at her, gaping in what looked like horror.

  
She followed his gaze, glancing down at herself. A rusted length of metal as thick as her arm had been driven in through the windscreen. It was pitted and crumbling, but it was still sharp.

  
Sharp enough to go straight through her chest, pinning her to the seat.

  
With something like wonder, she looked back at Hunter. She was going to die. She knew it, and she could see the knowledge on his face too. It was surprising that she was even conscious.

  
Benna opened her mouth to say… something, but choked on a mouthful of blood from her destroyed lungs. Her vision grew dark at the edges and she could feel death’s cold fingers wrapping around her heart. The last thing she saw was Hunter trying to fight his way free of the wreckage, nursing a broken arm and other, less obvious injuries. The last thing she heard were his shocked curses.

  
Her last thoughts were for Cullen and Evelynne. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ducks for cover* please don't hate me! 
> 
> Again, if you have a Hunter in your life, please please don't allow it to continue. Reach out to someone. Get help. You will be believed.


	44. In Which There Is A Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, but there was a lot to get done in this chapter. I'm _so_ glad no one hates me for the last chapter (and if you do, I'm sorry but it needed to happen that way).
> 
> My OH suggested that I just finish the story there, but Benna isn't done with Cullen yet...
> 
> XxX

Benna woke screaming. 

After the first cry was forced from her lips, she clenched her teeth and fought to suppress any further sound.  It felt like her blood was boiling, like she weighed as much as a mountain but she might still float away into the sky. Every nerve was flaring with agony. It was too loud, too heavy, too bright. Her clothes were sandpaper against her skin, even her own hair brushing against her cheek was too much. And yet she had to move. Something was pulling at her, deep in her bones, as strong and relentless as the tide. If she didn't move, it would tear her apart. 

She vaguely registered that someone was in the tent with her, a garbled noise that might have been her name assaulting her ears, but her eyes were streaming with tears and she didn't care in any case. She had to _move_ , and nothing in this world or any other could have stopped her. 

She fought her way free of the blankets entrapping her, clawing at herself clumsily. Her body felt too small to hold her, and she couldn't feel anything beyond her desperate need to _go._ Stumbling to her feet, she reached out, scrabbling at the tent fabric for the entrance. Someone grabbed her wrist and she screamed, the contact too much for her raw nerves. The hand let go as if it had been burned. Something flashed in her blurry vision, and a blast of frigid air hit her. Benna half fell into the snow, her lungs aching with the sudden cold. 

It wasn't enough. Her feet obeyed the tide in her bones, dragging her forward. She could barely see, but she could tell that it was almost dawn. The sky was fading to pink in the north. Stumbling and staggering, her body drew her onwards, up a steep, snow-cloaked slope. She heard voices behind her, but _nothing mattered_. She had to… she didn't know what. 

Her breath sobbed through her clenched teeth, the cold searing her lungs, but she was halfway up the slope now, and stopping wasn't an option. Her feet slipped in the snow and she clawed for balance, ripping a nail from its bed, tearing a yelp of pain from her. But she couldn't stop. Even though someone had removed her outdoor gear, including her boots. Almost to the top. 

Just below the crest, her legs collapsed. Just folded from under her like a malicious deck chair. In some distant part of her mind, she rolled her eyes as her face hit the snow. But that pull was still there, and she found herself clawing at the ground, trying to pull her useless corpse along with just her arms. Hands grabbed her again, but she was coated in snow, her nerves deadened by the cold, and the pain didn't return. She was hoisted into someone's arms. But the pull didn't relent; she leaned as far as she could, arms reaching uselessly. 

“Alright, you insane woman,” the person carrying her huffed. “You need to go this way. Just don't kill yourself doing it.” She was jarred as he walked, but she couldn't even turn her face to see who it was. She was staring up. 

They reached the crest just as the first red rays of dawn slipped over the horizon. Benna screamed a final time as she felt her entire being suddenly pulsing with the soundless roar of the sun. She found herself kneeling in the snow, her arms spread wide as her magic poured out of her, pulled by the relentless ache of dawn. It flew from her as a pillar of fire, streaming into the sky. Her scream changed somehow, becoming a note of song, ringing together with the awesome horror that was the start of a new day. 

She didn't know how long she was trapped in the glory of the dawn, insensible to everything but the sun, but she felt it fading. Her magic grew weaker, and the light grew golden and gentle. She drew her arms around herself, slumping into the pool of warm water that surrounded her. She forced her eyes to focus on the world; everything looked small compared to the celestial event. Cullen stood ten feet away, looking out over the land. His stance was wary, and he gripped his sword with one hand. 

Benna opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't even look at her. His eyes were trained on a dark speck in the blanket of snow. She could see her vision wavering, blankness appearing around the edges, but she followed his gaze. Someone was staggering through the snow towards them. 

She teetered and fell forward into the remaining snow. Just as her vision grew dark, she heard Cullen shout. “It's the Herald! She's alive!” 

  
  


\----------

 

“ _ Shadows fall, _

_ And hope has fled _ ,”

Benna looked up from the fire at sound of Mother Giselle singing. She was sat with the children near Evvy's tent, trying to keep their spirits up after Haven and listening to the Advisors argue, just as they'd been doing all afternoon. None of them seemed to know what to do next. She was mostly thankful that the majority of civilians had made it out; several had come to thank her for making sure their children were safe. 

But there was a general feeling of numb helplessness and shock that pervaded their temporary camp. Almost everyone had minor injuries, scrapes and bruises, and all they owned in the world was the one bag. Some didn't even have that. And how could they fight an Archdemon? As she understood it, only Grey Wardens could kill one. 

Everyone was wandering around, dazed, unsure, blank. Benna had caught glimpses of the strange boy Cullen forgot, darting from person to person, exchanging a few words or bringing food or water. The Herald was alive but injured, recovering in an open-sided tent. The people seemed to view her with religious awe, bowing to her and murmuring of Andraste and the Maker. But she wasn't enough to balance the scales weighed down by dread and hopelessness. 

And now, into the despairing silence, the Chantry Mother sang. Her voice was rich and resonant, reaching out to the edges of camp. 

 

“ _ Steel your heart, _

_ The dawn will come.” _

Benna recognised the song. It was a popular one during Chantry services. She'd never attended herself, but the voices of the faithful would echo around the mountains. It was a song about coming through the darkest part of the night and into the dawn. She shuddered; watching the sunrise was suddenly on her list of Things Not To Do. She knew the dawn would come; she just wasn't sure _she_ would survive a second one. Shae tucked herself under Benna's arm, one grubby thumb in her mouth. Mal sat stiffly, afraid to sleep in case the dragon came back. 

“ _ The shepherd’s lost, _

_ And his home is far, _ ”

Benna looked up in surprise. Leliana had joined in the singing. Her voice was crystal clear, a soprano to Giselle’s alto. 

“ _ Keep to the stars, _

_ The dawn will come.” _

More and more people joined in. Scouts and soldiers and civilians, drawing closer to Evvy, who was on her feet and looked unsure. 

“ _ The night is long, _

_ And the path is dark, _ ”

Even Cullen joined in. He tilted his head back and watched the stars as his strong, clear voice was almost pulled from him. She looked at him in surprise; his singing voice was wonderful. Even Mal was paying attention now. She could feel the change in the atmosphere. Suddenly, hope and faith were everywhere. Despair became determination. Fear became hope. Rage became a desire to protect. The people were approaching Evvy, their faces lit with awe. Benna's skin tingled as the first few knelt to her, bowing before their Herald and hero. 

Evvy met Benna's eyes across the camp, incredulous and slightly fearful, like nothing made sense and the situation had run away from her. Benna shrugged, and joined in the singing. 

“ _ Stand your ground, _

_ The dawn will come.  _

_ The night is long…” _

Her voice soared over the others’ in a shimmering descant, changing the song from moving to something almost otherworldly. It reached out to the stars themselves and almost sparkled in the icy air. She surprised herself; her voice almost didn't sound human. She ignored the looks, unwilling to break this moment for Evvy. She looked down from the skies, back to her friend. Evelynne raised an eyebrow at her, which faded to shock when Benna and the children bowed to her, the children kneeling with the others. 

“ _ For one day soon, _

_ The dawn will come!” _

It was defiance. A proud flag planted. Evvy looked uncertain. Mother Giselle murmured a few more words, before gliding off in the direction of the infirmary tents. The crowd began to disperse, solemn fear and awe replaced with relieved chatter and tentative smiles. Benna smiled herself, and turned back to the fire and her children. She hoped that they'd be able to talk about things now. Mal did not disappoint. 

 

\----------

 

The Singing had done wonders for morale, even amongst the Advisors. Cullen felt like someone had finally drawn back the fog and shown him the path forwards. He'd been so lost. Everything he'd sworn to protect, trained, sweated and planned for, had been destroyed. At least a tithe of his men were dead, buried under the snow in Haven. And he'd not been able to fight himself, offer his own body as protection against harm. He'd sworn to do that, once. 

But the song had brought him some clarity. They needed a new base, a better place, and the Herald had a plan. Well, an idea. Alright, just a direction, but that was _still_ more than they'd had this morning. 

_ Speaking of this morning… _

He approached Benna slowly, deliberately stepping a little louder than necessary. They hadn't had a chance yet, but they needed to talk. About a thousand things, but he'd start with how she'd known that the Herald was close. She'd sent her magic up as a beacon. Evelynne had even said that she was close to giving up before she saw it. 

He wasn't sure whether he truly _believed_ that Evelynne was chosen by the Maker, but he knew he _wanted_ to. And if that were true… they'd sent her to fight the dragon, expecting her to die in the flames. Just like Andraste. But fire had saved her too… he shook his head. He had too much to think about to concentrate on the budding legend or theology just now. 

He'd put this off long enough. It was the middle of the night and freezing. They both needed to get some rest before the ragged remains of the Inquisition moved on in the morning. He quietly joined Benna, who was staring out across the snow fields, silver in the starlight and tinged red from one of the moons. It was wild and lonely and lovely. 

Benna seemed to somehow match. Which was strange. He'd always thought of her as warm and loving, a hearth fire to welcome and comfort. Now something about the way she stood, the weight of her silence, she seemed… distant and dangerous, like summer lightning. Shaking his head yet again - where was he getting this stuff? - Cullen cleared his throat. 

“Mother Giselle certainly knows how to inspire. I think everyone feels better about… everything.” 

She didn't respond. In fact, if not for a slight tightening of her folded arms he'd have thought she didn't hear him. He sighed. 

“Benna, I need to talk to you.”

She didn't even glance at him, her voice low and cold. 

“Well, I don't want to talk to _you._ ”

He stared at her in surprise. She'd never sounded this cold. He had never imagined that she could. 

“W-what? Why?”

Benna glared at the mountains. She still hadn't looked at him. When she answered, her words tumbled over each other, as if she was getting them out as fast as possible. 

“You took away my choices, Cullen. And you didn't trust me enough to think that I'd follow orders. You knocked me out and left me completely vulnerable and helpless in the middle of a _dragon attack. _How much do you really trust your men?” She finally turned to face him, and he found himself almost wishing she hadn't. Her eyes were like chips of glacial ice, freezing fire. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off sharply.__

____

“No! I know all the proper reasons and explanations, but I am _not_ a mage in your Circle. I am _not_ under your command or asking for your protection. You don't get to make choices for me. _Ever_. Trying makes you as bad as Hunter, whatever your intentions.”

____

Cullen staggered back from her, stunned by… everything. Her words and vicious tone and especially her implications. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. Benna wrapped her arms around her waist. “So, no, Cullen, I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to _see_ you. I wanted five minutes to look at the stars before I have to try and sleep on the ground and hope I don't dream about that dragon. So thank you for spoiling the five peaceful minutes I've had today.” 

____

Visibly exhausted and fighting tears, she brushed past him and headed back to camp, leaving him reeling. He felt like he'd been punched. He stared at her back as she disappeared between the tents. 

____

What had he done? 

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, 
> 
> WOW over 200 kudos! Thank you so much for all your support and loves. I really enjoy all your comments too (Gabaii I'm looking at you) - they always make me smile.
> 
> Love to everyone
> 
> XxX


	45. In Which There Are Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff to pass the time :P I think we all need some after the last few chapters.
> 
> Thanks as always to Fire_Kitten for her support and proofreading and to my OH who helped me plot most of this chapter. He wants a Dorian/Vivienne scene because 'The sass! The sass!'. Later I promise.
> 
> XxX

Day one of the journey to Skyhold.

 

_Benna,_

_I feel I must apologise to you for my actions a few nights ago. You have a right to be angry, but I honestly felt that I made the best choice possible at the time. So, I'm sorry._

_Forgive me?_

_Cullen._

 

(Note scribbled on the outside)

Sorry Commander. She refused to take it. Told me to ‘return to sender’. She was with her kids, so I didn't push it.

 

\----------

 

Day two of the journey to Skyhold.

 

_Benna,_

_I'm really sorry about what happened,_ ~~_but I think you're being unreasonable_ ~~ _and I hope_ ~~_we can be friends_ ~~ _that we can get past this._

_Cullen._

 

_Sorry Cullen, I tried but she's not really talking to me either. She just cut me off when I tried bringing you up. She tore the note in half, by the way, so the pieces will be halfway to Val Royeaux by now. You'll get there._

_Evelynne._

 

_\----------_

 

Day three of the journey to Skyhold.

 

Report for Commander Rutherford, by Private Dirge.

Objectives: to unobtrusively guard the Lady Benna, ensuring that she is well and not overly distressed by recent events. (And to try and get her talking to the Commander again - B)

Results: we joined Lady Benna casually, as ordered. She did not object to our presence, and allowed us to accompany her, but neither did she react with customary warmth. Conversation was stilted, but she assured us that she was well, if a little tired. We discussed the children's response to recent events, and Miss Shae expressed her concerns regarding how their mother would find them now they were away from Haven.

Lady Benna remained distant throughout the day, and would not allow any personal questions. She seemed to be in generally good health.

(Yes, Ser. She's really not happy with you, and I don't think we fooled her. - A)

(I'd let her cool down a while. She wouldn't let us talk about you at all - B)

I apologise for the casual defacement of my report, Ser, but I have to concur with my teammates.

Private Dirge.

 

Come on, Curly. Do you think you're being sly? Sending those three was a terrible idea. Now she **knows** you're spying on her - Varric

 

\----------

 

Day four of the journey to Skyhold.

 

Yeah, Curly, she's mad. I tried to get her to talk about it, but she just shut me down hard. What did you **say**? I haven't seen a woman this angry since…

Well, since I last talked to Cassandra.

You want my advice? Leave it alone, and stop staring at her like a little lost puppy. I'll try and get her talking with some stories about the Champion - everyone's interested in her.

Varric

 

Is this really the best use of Inquisition resources, Cullen? And I saw that, Varric.

Cassandra

 

\----------

 

Day five of the journey to Skyhold.

 

_Cassandra, please. Leave it alone._

_Cullen._

 

_Varric,_

_Maker, what did you tell her? I know damn well I don't come out of those stories smelling like daisies._

_Actually, I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm worried; she hasn't talked to anyone about what happened. Try again. She needs to talk to someone before it eats her alive._

_Cullen_

 

Smelling like daisies?? I appreciate breaking linguistic conventions as much as the next dwarf, but sometimes cliches are classics for a reason. Try harder.

She's not with me, Curly. Her kids are, but Mal said she had to go.

Varric

 

Calm down, Commander. No one is helped by seeing you dashing up and down the column snapping at anyone who gets in your way. Your lady is fine. She's merely scouting ahead. With her magic, she can probably tolerate the cold a little better than most.

L

 

_Why would you do that, Leliana? You must know that I want to talk to her!_

_And she's not_ **_my_ ** _lady._

_C_

 

(Attached to a copy of a scouts report, written in code)

Ah, but does _she_ want to talk to _you?_ I must get my amusement from somewhere. I paired her with Charter. She's fine.

L

 

(Translated excerpts from the report. For some reason, Cullen didn't bother translating everything.)

  * Equipment check. My partner was well-prepared, and we set off at approximately eight bells…
  * ...attacked by a snow bear, but my partner scared it off with no injuries. Decided to follow…
  * … Discussion concerning codes, my partner suggested using a ‘finger’ language, and showed me a basic alphabet. Merits further discussion...
  * Way is clear for approximately five miles ahead.



 

\----------

Day six of the journey to Skyhold.

 

(Found pressed inside Cullen's Important Things book, oddly creased. As if it had been crumpled up and carefully smoothed out again.)

 

**Leev us alone! Don cume round again Benna don't want you an I don't and Shae neevr.**

**I mean it. From Mal**

 

To; Lady Ambassador Josephine Montilliet

From: Fiona, former Grand Enchanter, now Mage of the Inquisition.

Ambassador,

I fully appreciate that this is not the time to make such decisions, but my colleagues agree that this should be brought to your attention before we are assigned roles at our destination.

I have among my people a significant percentage who desire to repay the trust placed in them by the Inquisition in general and the Herald in particular. We appreciate that we have been tasked with wardings, healing and various other things to which mages are uniquely suited, but many hope to do more. Specifically, they wish to be out in the world, serving as agents, after a period of suitable training, of course.

This idea has been the topic of much debate amongst us, but the Lady Benna suggested a solution to the most obvious objections. She believes that the Templars rescued from Therinfal would welcome a restructuring, and suggests that teams of three or four be formed, with a mage and Templar in each, coupled with a skilled scout and/or a diplomat. These teams would train together and be placed on active duty only when each team passes all the tests devised by their trainers.

Evidently, there would be many other details that would need to be decided, but we agree that the idea has merit. If you would agree to meet with me to discuss the details before I bring it before the other Advisors and the Herald, I would very much appreciate it. It is my hope that everyone will see the potential advantages.

I await your response with great anticipation,

Fiona

 

(A note on the bottom of the letter reads;) _What do you think, Cullen? I know it would be a headache, but I agree that it's a good idea in principle._

_Josephine._

 

\----------

Day seven of the journey to Skyhold.

 

My darling Herald,

It seems that I am the companion du jour. What am I supposed to do with these children? Does she control them with the force of her mind?

I suppose I can survive, even without wine; it's just too entertaining watching this dance of theirs. Not to worry though - I'm sure with my wit and charm she'll forget all about the rather gorgeous Commander. And she must be desperate for good company after putting up with Whatsit the mage all day yesterday. I don't think that blowhard left her alone for longer than a half a bell.

And Cullen just spotted us! If looks could kill, I'd be a smoking outline in all this lovely snow. Think the lion will roar if I get her to laugh?

Yours shiveringly,

Dorian.

 

_Benna,_

_Please._

_Just come and talk to me, please._ _~~I miss you~~. _

_Cullen_

 

Dreadfully sorry, Commander, but she set your note on fire without opening it.

Dorian

 

(Somehow added to Dorian’s note without anyone seeing)

She's hurt. It's swallowed up the anger but she doesn't know how to talk about it. God, how could I even start? It's easier to stay angry, feed it the hurt until both are gone. The hurt is losing its teeth. She's remembering friends.

 

_Finally, something almost useful. Who wrote this? - Cullen_

 

\----------

Day eight of the journey to Skyhold.

 

(A long parchment that seems to have passed through many hands)

 

E,

Where is she today? This is wonderful entertainment on this miserable trek. - D

 

_Solas,_

_Is Benna walking with you today?_

_Evelynne._

 

She is not. Try the mages. - Solas

 

Nope, not here either. Leliana says she's not scouting. Do we trust that? But I've got ten gold that says Benna doesn't crack today. - Varric

 

_You're on, Varric. I think she's been wavering. Who could resist those big brown puppy eyes he's showing her? Cassandra, do you know who she's walking with today? - E_

 

Yes, I know. But I refuse to participate in this. Their relationship is not entertainment put on for your amusement. It is her business who she does or does not talk to.

Cassandra

 

It's you, isn't it Seeker? - V

 

By the stars and those who sail them! It's Vivienne! **Not** a pairing I would ever have considered! - D

 

_By Dirthamen! I'm going over there before she snaps. - E_

 

\----------

My dear Benna,

I knew that consorting with children was a bad idea; it seems one of yours slipped his leash. I had the great pleasure of witnessing our glorious Commander receive a dressing down from a boy half his size.

From what I could tell around the thick Ferelden accent (we must do something about that, by the by), this paragon of protection wants the Commander to leave ‘us’ alone and never talk to anyone ever again or said paragon would make him (the Commander) regret it. Further incomprehensible threats were issued to the Commander’s midriff, accompanied by clenched fists and an honestly filthy look.

The Commander was simply flabbergasted at this bold attack, made in the middle of a walking meeting with Josephine. While he was gaping like a fish and Josephine was desperately fighting the giggles, I swooped in and saved your young gallant from the fiery jaws of death itself. I deposited him back into the waiting arms of Mia the healer, and assured him that if he got more than ten feet from her again his arms would fall off.

Much as I appreciate the amusement on this endless slog, I thought that you'd probably want to know.

Dorian

 

_Holy shit! Thank you Dorian, I'll get you a bottle of something as soon as possible. I'll talk to the young errant and after that he won't be talking again for a week!_

_Benna_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of Benna and the kids bouncing back and forth along the column trying to avoid Cullen. I'm sure once Bull turns up they'll hide with the Chargers.
> 
> Xxx


	46. In Which Everyone Works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry guys. I've been struggling with this for ages and I've been trying to map out a bit of where we're heading with this. The accident and Haven debacle were my major plot points that I've been aiming for, and everything after that was a bit murky. Hopefully, I can get back on track now, and maybe I'll even post *two* chapters this week, so keep your eyes peeled! 
> 
> XxX

Skyhold was… well, it was a mess, quite honestly. 

 

Oh, she could see that the bones of the place were magnificent; tall towers, glorious arches and strong walls, but the fortress was ancient and decrepit. Most of the rooms were uninhabitable, with their roofs now on the floor. Birds were nesting in odd corners, and giant rats competed with the spiders for cellar space. The Great Hall had trees growing in its rafters, and no one had managed to get more than a few feet into what seemed to be a garden space - the vines and bushes resisted even the sharpest sword. 

 

The ragged remnants of the Inquisition didn't seem to care, though. Gossip asserted that not even a dragon would be able to breach these walls. The relief was palpable. Only the mages were even a little sceptical, and that was only because most of them had been imprisoned in similar fortifications for most of their lives. 

 

The Advisors didn't leave much time for gossip, however. After a day to rest and recuperate from the journey, everyone was put to work clearing out their new home. Benna found herself part of a group tasked with eradicating the enormous spiders that had laired in the darkest corners, which meant that all of them emerged covered in dirt, dust and cobwebs. She despaired of ever getting her hair clean again. 

 

Other teams hauled stone, beams, ancient furniture and assorted debris from the accessible rooms, or ‘weeded’ the courtyard, a task that involved more chopping than weeding. Mal and Shae were pressed into service running messages and helping the cooks, while Evelynne bounced from group to group, spreading good cheer and hope. 

 

After a few days of that, someone apparently remembered what else she could do, and Benna was transferred to the makeshift hospital. She was rather surprised it had taken this long, but it seemed that the leadership had wanted to allow the formal healers to work without their influence. She was given the worst cases; deep infections, nicked lungs, weakened hearts. One soldier who had even survived a belly cut; it had superficially been healed by a mage, but they had missed the tiny nick in his intestines that leaked infection into his abdomen. Benna was able to clean the infected area and seal the cut; the man was walking the next day, although he wouldn't be returning to active duty for at least a month. 

 

She also finally made the acquaintance of the strange, forgetful figure she'd first glimpsed at Therinfal. She'd been walking through, checking on the patients, and looked up to find him suddenly sitting cross-legged on the unsteady plank-and-two-barrels arrangement that made up their field desk, as if he'd been there all along. 

 

“You see me. You shouldn't, and I can't make you forget. You'd burn me if I tried, wouldn't you? You help. Like me, but not like me. I saw you before.” 

 

Benna slowly straightened from her crouch, warily watching him. He was tall, but so slender that he looked out of proportion. His long limbs made him uncomfortably resemble the giant spiders she'd been battling so recently, and his face was shadowed by the broad brim of his hat. His hands and feet seemed too big for his frame, and the glimpses she caught of his eyes showed her that they were an icy blue. 

 

“I try to help,” she agreed cautiously. 

 

“Yes. Flames but no pain. How can it be fire if it doesn't burn? But it does burn, only the hot is not here.” 

 

Benna tried to make sense of that for a moment, gave up, shook her head to clear it and gave him a small smile. “That's just how my magic behaves. I don't know why. What's your name? When did you join the Inquisition?” 

 

He glanced up, his icy blue eyes meeting hers for a moment. “I'm Cole. I help. I hear the hurt and the heartache and make things better.”

 

A soldier groaned in pain and she was distracted for a moment. Long enough, apparently, because Cole was suddenly there, offering the man a drink from the water flask that had appeared in his hands. “Dry and cracking, desert inside, try to talk but only the wind in the approach. Thirst. I perceive and provide.” He skated his eyes across her and nodded. “Yes. Like him but the other way.” She looked at him in confusion, but he declined to explain further, and the next time she glanced away he vanished. 

 

What she was definitely  _ not  _ doing was avoiding anything. She wasn't avoiding Cullen and Evelynne, they were all just busy. And if she was still angry and hurt, well, that was her own business. The scene at dawn hadn't been repeated, and she hadn't returned home since the car accident. She hadn't dreamed at all. Her emotions were a tangled ball of badness; fear, shame, guilt, anger, disbelief. She was convinced that she'd died. Did that make Thedas Heaven? What had happened to her body there? Was  _ anything  _ real? She'd never answered Charity’s last email - and her friend might never know what happened. Was Hunter dead? He’d been moving, so maybe not. Should she want him to be dead? Part of her wished he was, which made her a terrible person. Yet somehow she was glad. 

 

What she really wanted was to curl up in a cave somewhere and try to put herself back together; she felt like a box of puzzle pieces all jumbled up. It was pure chance which piece floated to the top. And people persisted in shaking her. 

 

Dorian had picked a particularly unlucky piece; he'd cornered her on the second day of spider hunting and tried to get her to talk to Cullen. She'd snarled at him like a caged lion, her magic barely held in check and flickering in her hair. He'd backed up fast, his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and hadn't talked to her since. Dirge had got tears and Branson apathy. She couldn't control her emotions, and she knew that for a mage that was dangerous. She could feel the other mages watching her, keeping a safe distance. 

 

The main problem, apart from the awful jumble, was that she didn't think she had all the pieces. She wasn't a complete picture. She'd lost something in the chaos of Haven and something else in the accident. And Cullen and Hunter had both stolen huge chunks of her and her perception of the worlds. How could she be the same person? There were pieces missing. 

 

So although her peaceful cave was a glimmering dream, she'd done the next best thing and retreated from everyone. They all expected things from her, and she just had nothing to give. Even the children failed to reach her. She balled up her feelings and shoved them in a drawer in the back of her mind, while her body got on with existing. Whatever that meant. 

 

\----------

 

Shae’s lip quivered, but she fought back the tears. She knew that Mal didn't really  _ mean  _ what he'd said. And she refused to cry, not when she was working. 

 

Mal had already run away, dodging between people and leaping over piles of trash. He'd probably gone to find a secret place to cry, just like she wanted to. But someone had to stay near the Ambassador and there wasn't anyone else. She just hoped that the Lady hadn't heard them fighting. A single glance dashed her hopes. Lady Montilyet was looking at her like she felt sorry for her. “Perhaps you should take a break? I have a lot to write up after my meeting with Seggrit. Return in… shall we say two bells?” 

 

Shae managed a bow and a “Thank you.” before she ran, as fast as Mal or faster. What she really wanted right now was Benna. She wanted to have Benna's arms wrapped around her and hear her voice call her  _ vherlan  _ and tell her that everything would be alright. But Benna was… she was  _ away _ . Her body was still here, doing normal things, but she didn't see. Her mind wasn't here, and that scared Shae more than anything. Everyone knew what happened to mages whose minds were gone. 

 

So she ran to where Evelynne was supposed to be today. All the runners were given a list of where the important people were expected to be, and today Evvy was on the walls, clearing out a path through the towers so the soldiers could patrol. She ran so fast that she didn't even see Benna in the Upper Courtyard, helping to clear out the buildings there. She didn't see her frown and start to follow. 

 

Shae flew through door after door, most of them propped open to admit air and light into the cave-like tower rooms. The closed ones required her to throw her whole weight behind them in order to open them, so she was scratched and breathless when she finally found Evvy and pulled up short. Evvy wasn't working at construction; she was huddled in conference with Varric and the new mage, Dorian. They were so deep in conversation that they hadn't even noticed the door opening. Shae felt strangely unable to approach them - until she spotted a faint shimmer of magic in the air. Her tears forgotten, she stood watching them, fascinated with the magic and their silence. 

 

Benna entered behind her. “What's wrong?” Shae started and turned to look at her. She started to throw herself into Benna's arms but hesitated. She was afraid. She'd had a nightmare that Benna wasn't Benna and something else wore her face like a mask. But it was Benna's face that smiled and Benna's arms that scooped her up, and Shae flung her arms around her and sobbed. “Mal is  _ mean _ .” 

 

She felt Benna sigh. “Mal is scared and hurting, just like everyone else. He doesn't really mean the nasty things he says. And he'll always love you, I promise.” She knew, but it didn't really help. 

 

“Does that extend to everyone?” Master Pavus sounded strangely cheerful, his voice echoing oddly in the confines of the room. He and the others had broken off their secret talk to watch Shae and Benna. He grinned at Shae, teeth flashing in the gloom, but she didn’t smile back. She’d felt Benna’s arms tense when Dorian spoke.

“Everyone is recovering from Haven.” Benna answered him cooly. Shae knew her well enough to hear the warning in her tone, and stiffened in turn. This could turn out bad…

 

“True enough,” Varric agreed genially, tucking his thumbs into his belt. “But some people deal with it better, don’t you think, Evelynne?”

 

It seemed like Evvy didn’t want to get involved. She was stood slightly away from the other two, her arms folded across her chest. She made a noise that could have been agreement, but didn’t really commit. Dorian glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Oh yes,” he agreed. “ _ Some  _ people have been hiding from their feelings, and that simply isn’t healthy. Why, I’ve heard that some people haven’t even talked to their friends! Imagine!”

 

“Dorian…” The hairs on the back of Shae’s neck rose. Benna sounded dangerous. She didn’t understand what was going on, but it was making Benna angry.

 

“It must be  _ terrible _ for their friends.” Varric talked right over her. “I mean, surely their friends would want to help, but if they’ve shut them out…”

 

“Then their friends might resort to drastic measures!” Dorian finished with a flourish. “The friends would have to find a way to fight for their friend - don’t you think, Shae?” Confused, she nodded cautiously. What was she agreeing to? It seemed like Varric and Dorian were dancing all around something they wanted to say.

 

“Hey!” Varric said with false surprise. “Wouldn’t the Commander be a good person to talk to? He knows a lot about fighting after all.”

 

“What a marvellous idea, Varric!” Dorian’s grin should have lit up the tower. “He’s the perfect person to -” He was cut off by a snarl from Benna.

 

“I know you two think you’re funny, but I’m fine, I don’t need you and I  _ certainly _ don’t need to talk to Cullen.”

 

“‘Cullen’, is it?” Dorian raised an eyebrow at Varric. “Do you know anyone else who refers to him by his first name, apart from the Advisors?” When Varric shook his head, smirking, Dorian smiled like he’d won a prize, “Surely only the Commander’s  _ friends _ would do that…”

 

Benna stood from the crouch she’d sunk into to hug Shae. She glared at everyone in the room, flames flickering in her hair, before she turned and stalked out, back ramrod straight. Dorian grinned at Varric and Evvy. “Perfect.”


	47. In Which Evvy Is Mean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fairly short chapter this, but it is what it needs to be (I hope).
> 
> For everyone asking - Benna's friends know what Cullen did, partly because he did it with Evvy's agreement (or at least permission) and he used a Rogue's knockout powder. Guess who he got it from?  
> There will be a conversation about it and hopefully, Benna will draw some lines for him and anyone else who wants to take her choices away. She's strong. And they need each other, even if Benna won't admit it.
> 
> As always, much love from me and Benna to all my readers, but especially Fire_Kitten who is, essentially, me. The me who loves Alistair (almost) as much as I love Cullen.
> 
> Who are your top five DA characters? Cullen is number one on my 'I would' list. As for the rest...
> 
> I'll let you know next chapter.
> 
> XxX

Benna was curled up in a blanket and staring into space when Evvy appeared. Evening was drawing in, almost unnaturally fast in the mountains, and the crackling of the fire was the loudest thing to Benna’s ears, especially since Evvy didn’t make noise when she walked like normal people. She shifted slightly when Evvy crouched down beside her, but refused to meet her eyes. She didn’t want to see the pity there.

 

“You know that we love you, don’t you?” Benna twitched at the quiet question.  _ Did _ she know that? She supposed that she knew they were her friends, but it was a distant knowledge, something that barely touched her through the layers of pain, anger and, yes, fear, she was wrapped in. Still, Evvy seemed to want an answer, so she nodded cautiously. “Good. Now, get up.”

 

Startled, she finally looked up at her friend, the sudden change in tone catching her by surprise. She saw only determination in her face. “Wh-What?”

 

“Get up,  _ delavir _ . We’re going to spar.” Her brow creasing at the insult, Benna untangled herself from the blanket and stood, unwilling to argue. It was easier just to go along with everything and save her energy for the cave. She trailed behind Evvy’s confident steps, following her down to the upper courtyard and through a discreet door near the command tent that had been set up. It opened to reveal endless stairs going down, torches waiting at the top for passers-by to grab one. Benna didn’t bother, calling a small piece of fire to float in front of them as they edged cautiously down the crumbling treads. “This is going to be our dungeon.” Evvy’s voice echoed back, the edges sharper against the stones. “It’s still being assessed, but it’s the best place away from prying eyes.” Benna didn’t answer, still trapped in her apathy. What did it matter?

 

They finally reached the end of the stairs, which opened up into a large room lined with columns, and cells in the walls. Dorian was leaning against the closest column, examining his fingernails. He looked up with a cheerful smile and handed Evvy her daggers as she approached. Benna took the cheap staff that was propped against the pillar beside him and spun it listlessly. She didn’t understand why Evvy wanted to spar now and here, of all places, but again, it didn’t really matter. “I’m here to make sure your pretty magic doesn’t get out of control.” Dorian told her happily. “And down here you can’t really set fire to anything, so Skyhold won’t finish falling down around our ears.” His only answer was a tepid smile. He sighed loudly and activated a warding circle he’d drawn. “Just stay inside the wards.” 

 

Evvy moved to the centre and crouched, her daggers flashing. “Come on,  _ ma falon _ . We’ve never sparred before.” Benna shrugged in response, following her friend into the circle and holding her staff in a half-hearted guard. With Dorian’s  _ Engage! _ from the sidelines, she twirled it to block Evvy’s lightning-fast charge. It didn’t work. She stared in surprise at the line of red forming across her forearm, then looked back at Evvy. The elf was back in front of her, her daggers at her sides. “Benna, come on, you didn’t even put up a barrier. Again.”

 

She formed a barrier but lost it immediately when Evvy kicked her in the back of the knee, sending her tumbling forwards. “Again.” The barrier held, but Evvy held a dagger to her throat. “Dead. Again.” A small spark of temper fluttered in her heart.

 

“Come on, where’s the highly-trained mage who could have fought Corypheus with me? Again.” Benna actually snarled and threw a fireball at her friend. “Better, but we tried that and Red Templars aren’t too bothered by fire.” She felt a hit to her kidney. “Dead, again.” Evvy wasn’t even breathing hard.

 

And so it continued. Benna tried, again and again, to defend herself, only to receive a bruising hit or the occasional slice and the implacable demand: “Again.”

 

Eventually, Benna was fighting tears of rage and frustration. Evvy was relentless. “You think you should have come out with us, Benna? You can’t even defend yourself from a rogue standing in front of you! We’d have all been dead the moment we left the Chantry if this is the best you can do!” Benna threw a fireball as big as her head at the rogue, who simply slid aside and let it dissipate against the barrier. “I suppose an easy mission with Cullen watching your back at every step gave you too much confidence. The world is full of hard choices, you know. And if you’re too much of a burden, if you can’t keep up, you’ll be left behind.” She disappeared into stealth, still talking. “What happened to the battle-mage who could take on that fucking dragon? Where did you go?” She reappeared right beside Benna, sliding her daggers up and under and sending the staff flying. “Where did all that training go? What happened?”

 

Benna broke. “ _ I DIED. _ ” She screamed into her friend’s face. Her magic flared out of control, fire flashing in her eyes. Evvy flinched back but didn’t move. Benna’s voice broke as she collapsed to her knees, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “Evvy, I  _ died _ . Hunter, he… I don’t know and there was a hole…” She gestured to her chest, where the pole had ended her life. She began to sob. “And I can’t ever go  _ home _ , Evvy, there’s nothing I can do. And Hunter wanted to, to  _ control  _ me, ‘too stupid, too dumb’, he said, he said I was  _ his _ , and he was going to… going to…” She couldn’t continue. She’d lost her protective casing, and every nerve was raw. 

 

She flinched away when Evvy dropped to her knees beside her and wrapped her in a hug. Everything was too much, too loud, but before she could struggle her way free, Dorian joined the hug on her other side, trapping her between them. She even felt a brush against her cheek from someone with cold fingers. Tears fell from her eyes in a blinding rush, she was almost hyperventilating from the memories and sobs, but gradually, bit by bit, minute by minute, she began to calm. Evvy had her head resting against Benna’s temple as she hugged her as tight as she could. Dorian was humming something in her ear as he stroked her hair. No one said anything for a long time.

 

“I know you and Cullen had reasons for doing what you did. But -” She broke off to gulp and release a shuddering sigh. “But it’s still  _ controlling _ me. I can’t…”

 

“I know,  _ ma falon _ , I understand now. We didn’t know. We didn’t know what that -” Evvy broke off in turn. “What happened to him? Do you know?”

 

Benna lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I think he’s alive. But he can’t find me anymore, I don't think. I haven’t seen him since Haven.” She sniffled, and made a particularly unattractive noise, causing Dorian to let out a faint chuckle. In an effort to distract herself, Benna asking him about the song he’d been humming. The Tevinter mage blushed slightly and began to sing quietly.

 

_ Arrorró mi niño, _

_ arrorró mi sol, _

_ arrorró pedazo, _

_ de mi corazón. _

 

_ Este niño lindo _

_ ya quiere dormir; _

_ háganle la cuna _

_ de rosa y jazmín. _

 

“It’s a song from my childhood.” He refused to translate it for them, admitting that it was a lullaby. Whatever it meant, it had helped a little. 

 

The three of them remained on the floor, letting Benna regain some of her equilibrium. She just felt completely drained and distant from everything, hidden away in the bowels of the castle. She almost wished that she could stay down here, away from everyone, but she knew that Evvy would just drag her back. And at some point, she’d have to talk to Cullen. And she was still angry with him. Perhaps she should actually sit down and tell him why…

 

She sighed through her still stuffy nose, realising that Evvy had fallen asleep on her shoulder. She felt a pang of guilt; Evvy had had a worse time of it than she had. She finally took the time to really  _ look _ at her friend for the first time in weeks. The Herald was pale, with dark rings under her eyes, and her face was gaunt in the flickering magelight. She’d lost weight again. Benna felt fresh tears forming as she realised how selfish she’d been; her best friend had been carrying the burden of the Inquisition alone. Benna hadn’t helped her.

 

But for now, all she could do was exchange glances with Dorian, as the two of them laid Evvy gently down, pillowing her head with a jacket. Then, with Evvy on one side and Dorian on the other, Benna fell into a dark and quiet sleep, as her broken and shredded heart finally began to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven (From the incomparable Project Elven)
> 
> delavir - stupid
> 
> ma falon - my friend
> 
>  
> 
> Dorian's song is Arrorró mi niño, a Spanish lullaby. It's on Youtube if you want to hear it.
> 
> XxX


	48. In Which Plans Are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeep! 100,000 words written on Benna's story! Holy crap!
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to all my lovely readers - I love seeing your comments and theories and general support for Benna through all her trials. Soon enough she'll adjust to having her mind in Thedas exclusively, so guess what she'll start doing? 
> 
> Special thanks go as always to Fire_Kitten who is an awesome Beta, general fan and loremaster. I <3 her with all the squishies.
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> The Lady S
> 
> XxXxX

A week and a half after arriving at Skyhold, Cullen was leading the morning training. Everyone needed to find a routine, including the Commander. Maybe especially him. So he held off adding new exercises and stuck with the familiar; stretches, strengthening exercises and running, followed by sparring in teams of ten or twelve. The day was bright and the morning air was crisp. Cullen could feel his headache receding just from the sheer enjoyment of being outside. He called out the next routine, striking the beat on an old shield, and his men moved as one. 

 

His officers strolled between the lines, offering abuse or support, depending on the soldier who received it. Cullen was standing on the landing leading up to the Great Hall, keeping a sharp eye on his troops, when a flutter of gold caught his attention. Right at the very back, as far away from him as possible, Benna had joined in. With Dirge, Branson and Alrich and several mages, to judge by the staffs. Oh, and her children too. Wonderful. 

 

Cullen dragged his gaze away and back to his men. He couldn’t do anything about it until they broke into teams without distracting everyone. He caught Lisette’s eye and directed her to the back; at least Benna knew her, and Lisette could keep an eye on them. Maker only knew what they thought they were doing. 

 

—————

 

He’d struggled to concentrate and resist the urge to stare at Benna. But he couldn’t help but feel hopeful - perhaps she’d finally forgiven him? He’d missed her. Even if she had been unreasonable about the whole thing. Maybe she was ready to talk? 

 

His hopes were dashed when he finally approached her group. Instead of leaving after morning exercises, Benna’s little circle had organised themselves and begun sparring. Just like the soldiers. Cullen’s heart sank. This wasn’t anything to do with  _ them _ ; it was a real training regimen. He recalled the letter that Josephine had sent him during the long march. This looked an awful lot like preparation for missions. 

 

Fighting down the sudden worry, he stood a ways back and simply watched. Dirge was giving a demonstration of proper spear work while the mages looked on; most of them seemed exhausted just from the conditioning exercises. None of them would have been used to such sustained activity, even after they fled the Circle. But none of them had left, or even sat down - all eyes were on Dirge and the dirty move he was showing them to use against an opponent in heavy armour. Mal in particular was watching with a ferocious amount of focus, gripping his staff with a white-knuckled grip.

 

Cullen began to relax as the teaching gave way to practice. The mages were even slightly better than the soldiers in that they were quick to encourage one another and offer suggestions to avoid mistakes. Most recruits were more focused on winning. Cullen even left for a little while to check on other nearby groups, which unfortunately only held his attention for a short time; these groups were veterans keeping their skills sharp. As he approached Benna’s mages for the second time, he almost tripped on air and fell when he heard her call out. “Looks good! Let’s try it with magic now.”

 

They weren’t just training like soldiers! And there were no Templars observing! His instinctive reaction was to call for Lisette, Rylan, any Templar nearby. But that wasn’t right anymore. The Herald had made it clear that the mages were to govern themselves, use magic as they saw fit, train and teach, without interference unless they themselves specifically asked for it. Including abominations. Despite his agreement, despite his  _ understanding,  _ every ingrained instinct rebelled against it. He stood several meters away and watched, gripping the sword at his side as he fought against his training. 

 

The mages were careful, he had to allow that. They set up a basic ward around the ring to prevent stray magic escaping, and each opponent had a strong barrier placed by an observer. They started slow, discussing each move as two of them fought in slow motion, calling suggestions as to what magic could be used. He had done something similar with Benna back in Haven. Before the world imploded. His heart ached for a moment, but he was dragged out of the memory by the  _ clack _ of wood hitting wood, the flash of fire and the crackle of lightning as the sparring sped up. 

 

Eventually, Benna detached herself from the group and moved over to him. They didn’t look at each other as she stopped beside him and turned to watch the sparring. “You know, you’re making some of the mages nervous, staring like that.” Cullen sighed. He knew he was making some of the mages uncomfortable, but he  _ couldn’t _ leave. For a multitude of reasons, not least of which was this little display had caught the attention of the soldiers, and the Commander needed to be seen to be in charge.  _ Shit _ . Benna had outplayed him. In allowing this to go on so long, he’d given his tacit approval. He wasn't sure that he wanted to allow mages to join the rank-and-file. 

 

Apparently reading his mind, Benna murmured, “They won’t be joining the regular soldiers, of course. The hate is too deeply ingrained in a lot of people.” Cullen felt a stab of shame for his own reaction. “They’ll be part of the…. irregulars Fiona suggested. And we’ll recruit some of the younger Temp…”

 

She spun to face him so fast her braid slapped him in the face, grabbing his arm. “Cullen, you were, what, thirteen when you joined the Templars?” Confused by the question and the urgency in her voice he nodded slowly. She lowered her voice, dread in every syllable, “So where are all the children in training? Surely they can’t be -” She broke off, throat bobbing as she swallowed. Cullen went cold. 

 

“Surely someone…” But who? With the chaos, who would have thought about the trainees?

 

“Where were they?” Benna’s voice was soft with dread.

 

“Mostly in the bigger cities. Denerim, Tantervale, Val Royeaux…” Cullen swallowed. “The younger recruits train in the large Chantries before they’re sent to a Circle about a year before they take their vows. Kirkwall’s Chantry had about fifty before…” he glanced away.

 

She tightened her grip on his arm. “So where are they now? The Templars left…”

 

He had to shake his head. “I don’t know. But this needs to be a priority. We have the apprentice mages, but…” He broke off, clenching a fist. “This is why the Templars rebelled. They’ve become part of the background, no recognition, no thought given to them…” He hung his head and took a deep breath. “Will you meet with me after this? I…  _ we _ need to plan, if we’re going to find them.” She nodded, taking a small step back and releasing his arm. He felt the loss. For a brief moment, they’d both forgotten what stood between them. Urgency filled him. “I’ll send Lysette over. She has more experience in staff work.”

 

And with that, the Commander of the Inquisition turned and left the mages to train. The soldiers watched him go out of the corner of their eyes, only to be swept up again in the flow of swords and shields, thrust and parry. The flashes of magic had to be ignored. Shields had to be raised. Cullen disappeared into a gatehouse, already mentally listing all the Templar training facilities in Thedas.

 

\----------

 

Not bothering to knock, Benna pushed the door fully open, allowing sunlight to spill into the guardroom Cullen had claimed as a temporary office. The Commander was bent over a wobby crate as a makeshift desk, ink splattered across its surface - it had obviously wobbled too hard at some point. He had ink in his hair as well. She hid a smile as he looked up at her. “Oh, Benna! Pull up a… barrel.” 

 

After some shuffling, they both leaned over the parchment. “I’ve made a list of all the training facilities in Ferelden, Orlais and the Free Marches. The Marcher facilities are the simplest; only Markham and Tantervale are left after the explosion in Kirkwall. Tantervale is almost under Chantry rule, and we haven’t had any reports of trouble there. Their recruits are likely safe, though isolated. But Markham…  we’ve heard very little from them.” Benna nodded seriously and shoved her braid over her shoulder. Cullen tapped the map over the free city. She’d heard that Markham had a university, but that was all.

 

Cullen continued, running a hand through his hair; “Orlais is slightly more complex. We know that almost all of the Templars from Orlais left with the Lord Seeker, including those from the White Spire. That was an elite facility, where the children of high nobles were trained. It’s probable that their families reclaimed those who were left, even if only to avoid scandal. It’s unlikely that their recruits would be ignored for long; the Grand Cathedral would have taken charge. Outside the capital…” he kept talking and the names kept flowing. Montsimmard, Lydes, Verchiel. Denerim, Jader, Amarinthine… 

 

“Cullen,” she asked in horror, interrupting his endless recital. “How many Templars  _ are _ there?”

 

His eyes were bleak. “Thousands. The White Spire alone had hundreds. Each village Chantry had at least one or two to aid the Sisters.” 

 

“If each of these facilities had between fifty and three hundred trainees… it’s too awful to think about.” 

 

His shoulders slumped. “I know. But we need to try.”

 

They worked into the afternoon, deciding on an initial plan for each place, which for the most part involved Leliana’s scouts or a delicate letter from Josephine. Openly marching soldiers through a country’s territory was likely to start the third war this year. Benna was surprised at just how much she’d picked up from Josephine while she answered endless letters in order to learn Common quickly. Finally, as the sun began to drop behind the mountains and the afternoon slid into evening, Cullen nodded. “I think that’s all we can do without input from the other Advisors. We’ll discuss it with them tomorrow morning.”

 

“Cullen,” Benna said quietly, placing a restraining hand on his arm as he went to get up, “I think we need to discuss…” She groped for an appropriate term. “Us, our friendship.”

 

He stilled, looking hunted. “If that is what you wish,” he replied cautiously.

 

She gave him a sad smile. “I owe you an explanation. And probably an apology. You know that I talked with Hunter in dreams? Well...” The whole story came spilling out. Not the other world, no, but the final evening with Hunter. She recited the awful things he’d said to her, what he’d wanted to do, and how things had ended. Tears fell, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop when Cullen went white, then red. She continued as he let out a choked gasp, a look of horror on his face. Finally, she slumped, resting her head on her arms on the table-crate. Telling the story drained her; she’d never given Evvy and Dorian the full story, but Cullen deserved to know. He should understand why she’d been so… distant. He probably hadn’t deserved it. Her voice muffled, she finished, “That was when you’d knocked me out at Haven, Cullen. Everything is muddled together in my head. All I could feel was that you  _ both _ wanted to control me, and make me obey, whether or not I agreed. I  _ know _ that you wanted to protect me, but can’t you see how helpless you made me?”

 

——-

 

Cullen was reeling. He’d never thought - he knew what abuses some mages had suffered, understood what Meredith had allowed to happen. But he’d  _ known  _ how Hunter treated Benna; he’d watched as she struggled with the aftermath. But he’d never equated Hunter’s behaviour with Cullen’s own. His mind raced, evaluating and reevaluating every interaction he’d ever had with Benna and the mages under his care. Did they feel like Benna did? Did they feel that he’d abused his power? That he’d been cruel?  _ Had  _ he wanted to control Benna? He forced his mind away. She needed his understanding, not his guilt. 

 

“Benna…” Cullen’s voice was filled with anguish as he reached towards her, stopping short of actually touching her. “I  _ never _ wanted to control you. To say I’m sorry seems inadequate. But I’m so sorry. I was doing the best I could to keep everyone safe. And if I ever meet that… that… I’ll tear him apart. Or hold him down so  _ you _ can. You aren’t helpless, I promise.” He blinked back tears of his own. His feelings weren’t important at the moment. 

 

She let out a watery laugh and wiped here face. “Evvy showed me last night, brutally, that I don’t have the training to go on missions. Will you teach me?” At his solemn nod, she tried to smile. It was weak and wobbly, but it was there. It grew when he returned it. But then she let out a sigh and slumped forward. “I suppose this means I’m not going out to look for the trainees?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S.
> 
> If anyone has a theory about what happened to the Templar trainees, please do let me know. I couldn't find it anywhere! I couldn't even find a list of places they're trained. I even tweeted one of the producers but I haven't had an answer yet.
> 
> XxXx


	49. In Which Benna Gets A Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this chapter is not everything I wanted it to be. But I've been fiddling around with it for days now and it's not getting any better (And it's mostly dialogue - sorry).
> 
> It's been a frantically busy week - family wedding and traveling across the country (and back) with two cats and a grumpy husband and *finally* meeting my wonderful Fire_Kitten and drinking cherry wine and mead and staying up until 4 am to talk about *everything*... 
> 
> AND I started a new job today - longer hours etc etc
> 
> AND it's NaNoWriMo!  
> I am trying to do a project for it - a story about a faery boy in Scandinavia during the Viking period - send me name ideas. And maybe I'll post a few chapters on here for your reading pleasure.
> 
> So what all that means is that Benna is going to have to take a back seat for a while - I'm not giving up on her, don't worry! But I'll be posting a bit less than usual, I'm afraid. Once we get through November, hopefully I'll have more time to work on TFOF. 
> 
> Much love to everyone who reads this fic, and I hope you all have a productive NaNoWriMo if you're participating.
> 
> XxXxX

Benna found herself nervous as she waited for Cullen in the Great Hall. For one thing, Vivienne had taken to drifting around the space, alternating between charming threateningly and threatening charmingly whichever nobles were swept in her wake. Not that there were many; only a few had arrived in the last two weeks. And apparently, it wasn’t too early to schmooze. Her rehearsed laugh was just loud enough to attract attention and grate on Benna’s nerves. She forced a smile as the Grand Enchanter made her way over, arm in arm with a short woman dressed in a bizarre mix of leather and silk. 

 

“Benna my dear, I simply must introduce you to Bann Griselda. Bann Griselda, this is Benna de Par’an-Atema.” Benna inclined her head to the Bann, scrambling to remember the Fereldan hierarchy. Was a Bann higher than an Arl? “Bann Griselda’s lands lie at the base of the mountains,” Vivienne continued, “and the road to Skyhold goes right through them. It really is most fortuitous that the Bann favours the Inquisition.”

 

Ah. Message received. The Bann could make life extremely difficult for them if she chose; they’d only found one road through the mountains so far, although Benna was absolutely certain that Leliana and her agents were looking for another. Benna smiled a bit wider and murmured, “I hope you find your stay a pleasant one, Bann Griselda, despite the unfortunate state of the fortress.” 

 

The woman sneered up at her. Or maybe smiled. She had that kind of face. “Yes, it is in a sorry state, isn’t it. One could almost find better accommodations in a barn! But I’m sure it will be magnificent, when it’s repaired.” She admitted the last grudgingly, as if a compliment wouldn’t fit past her teeth. Benna felt a flash of temper and drew breath to reply, but Vivienne intervened. 

 

“Benna darling, we don’t usually see you in the Great Hall at this hour. What are you doing here so early in the day?” 

 

“I have a question for the Advisors.” 

 

“Oh? Well, perhaps we could help? Then there would be no need to bother the Advisors; they are extremely busy people, as I’m sure you’re aware.” 

 

Benna gritted her teeth at the woman’s nosiness. This had nothing to do with her. She spotted Cullen finally arriving, and her smile relaxed, becoming more natural. “Perhaps you  _ could  _ help, Vivienne. Tell me, do  _ you  _ know what happened to the Templar trainees?

 

Vivienne gaped at her for a moment that Benna would treasure, before her smiling mask snapped back into place. “What an  _ interesting  _ question! And as First Enchanter I  _ do  _ have rather more knowledge of Templar training than the average person…”

 

“But not as much as the former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.” Cullen finished for her, stepping up to Benna’s side and giving all the ladies a small bow. “If you have any ideas, please let Leliana or Josephine know, Vivienne.” He turned to Benna. “Good morning. Are you ready?” 

 

Smiling up at him, she took his offered arm. Between Cullen’s arrival and Vivienne’s subtle attacks, her nerves had vanished. “Good morning. Let’s go talk to Evvy and the others, instead of debating out in public like this. I was very pleased to meet you, Bann Griselda.”  And off they swept. 

 

—————

 

In actual fact, Benna didn’t do much during the meeting in the newly christened War Room. Partly because she was distracted by the view from the gothic windows. The mountains were gorgeous in the morning. But mostly because Cullen was content to do all the talking, although he made sure to credit Benna loudly and often as he presented their plan to Evvy, Josephine and Leliana. 

 

When he first brought up the issue, Leliana’s expression tightened just the smallest bit. “That is a question we should have asked ourselves months ago. Many of them are orphans or foundlings given to the Chantry…”. Josephine looked taken aback, staring at Cullen before frantically scribbling notes, the stack of papers building higher and higher as he continued to explain. 

 

Evvy looked sick at heart. “When we found out what they were doing to the Tranquil in Redcliff, I swore we’d try harder for the innocents caught up in this war. But we never even considered…” she broke off, shaking her head. “This needs to be one of our highest priorities. I know a lot of Chantries were attacked in the fighting.” 

 

Benna moved to her friend’s side and squeezed her arm. “We’ll do the best we can for them now,  _ ma falon.  _ We can’t do anything except our best.”

 

Josephine nodded emphatically. “And what is your proposal, Cullen? Do you wish to send a few troops to each facility?” Benna could see that the Ambassador was already composing letters to the city leaders. 

 

“No,” Cullen replied, surprising Josephine. “We,” he gestured to himself and Benna, “thought that this is a task better suited for yours and Leliana’s people. The last thing we need is nobles screaming that we’ve stolen their children.”

 

“I must say, that is an excellent thought,” Josephine replied after a moment. “I have agents stationed in several major cities across Thedas; it would be a simple matter to have them make a few discreet enquiries.”

 

“And I have a few agents in mind who could investigate some of the more isolated facilities without raising any questions from the nobles.” Leliana pulled her hands behind her back and nodded to Cullen, who inclined his head in return. 

 

“Are you going with them, Benna?” Evelynne asked, giving her hand a squeeze. When Benna shook her head, she was visibly surprised. “What, really? I would have expected you to be the first one out of here, especially to find missing children.” 

 

Benna shrugged out of her friend’s hold, moving to pick up the papers Cullen had brought. “As you demonstrated, my training isn’t enough for me to stay safe. Cullen has agreed to teach me, and until he’s happy with my skills I’ll be staying in Skyhold. Not to mention Mal and Shae and what my leaving would do to them. Besides,” she glanced around at the Advisers. “I’m certain that your agents could do a far better job than I ever could.”

 

“Lady Benna, perhaps you could care for them in a different way. Might you be able to aid me in preparing for the arrival of the trainees and the Templars you rescued from Therinfal?” Josephine smoothly changed the subject before anyone could get their feelings hurt. “They know you, after all, and your presence may help ease any tensions between them and the mages quartered in Skyhold.” 

 

Nunis was arriving! Benna lit up like a lantern and nodded eagerly, agreeing to meet with the Ambassador later in the day. She couldn’t wait to see her beautiful horse; thank goodness she’d been away from Haven when the dragon attacked. The rest of the meeting was about Evelynne’s upcoming trip to the Storm Coast to recruit a mercenary company and search for Grey Wardens. She’d be leaving soon with Cassandra, Cole, and Solas. The details passed Benna by; she was too busy thinking about how she could make the Templars feel welcome. 


	50. In Which A Fire Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! November was a crazy month for me but hopefully life has settled down enough for me to get back to a semi-regular schedule for Benna. Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Nanowrimo ended up being a bust - I just had too much on my plate but I’m sure I’ll go back to it one of these days. If you’d be interested in reading a Folklore-inspired story about a half faery boy let me know - it might give me the kick up the proverbial I need to actually write the damn thing. 
> 
> This ended up waaay longer than I expected honestly but Benna’s life is getting more and more complicated. 
> 
> (Posting on my phone so any edits will happen when I get home from work)
> 
> Happy Sunday! Xxxx

Benna was very busy for the next week. Between training with the mages, preparation for the Templars’ arrival, raising the children and checking on her patients, the days passed in a whirlwind. When Dorian caught her at dinner the night before Evvy left to suggest magic lessons, she almost cried. 

 

“But I’m so busy!”

 

He smirked at her from behind his moustache. “Come now, we can’t have the leader of the  _ Haven Mages Collective  _ almost completely untrained! Whatever would the nobles think?”

 

“I’m not their leader!” Beside her, Evvy cleared her throat, her expression clearly indicating that she thought otherwise. Benna opened her mouth to insist, but Dorian beat her to it. 

 

“Who was it that came up with the idea for the mixed teams?”

 

Confused by the abrupt shift, she stammered out, “Me and Fiona, but…”

 

“And who got the Advisors to agree to it?”

 

“I mean, I mostly  _ tricked  _ Cullen into it -”

 

“Which mage - apart from my glorious self, of course -”

 

“Of course,” Evvy murmured with dancing eyes. 

 

“Of course,” Dorian agreed, moustache twitching. “Which mage is the only one to have been invited into a meeting with all the Advisors  _ and _ our wonderful Herald?”

 

“Surely Vivienne..?” The others shook their heads. Benna stopped, shocked. 

 

“Who is it,” Dorian continued relentlessly,  “that’s been as good as appointed Liaison between Templars and Mages - something even Divine Justinia couldn’t manage?”

 

That one killed whatever retort she was looking for. They sat in silence while Benna stared at her plate, as if the answers she needed would be found in the winter-sweet carrots. Resigning herself, she looked between her friends and sighed, shoulders slumping. “Where are we meeting and when?” 

 

——-

 

The ceremony that Benna caught herself calling ‘Evvy’s Coronation’ took place the next morning, before her friend could slip into the mountains on her way to the Storm Coast. Rumours had been running rampant for days, of course, but apparently Evvy hadn’t believed them. The shock on her face was genuine when Leliana offered her the sword, fit for the Inquisitor. Benna, watching from the battlements with a cadre of mages, could almost hear the conversation. “You want  _ me _ to lead you? An elf?”

 

“Yes, of course. You are the best choice.”

 

“ _ You are the only choice! _ ” Benna called out in Elven, almost certain that Evvy wouldn’t hear her. But perhaps her friend glanced in her direction? Still looking unsure, at least to Benna’s eyes, Evelynne took the sword and raised it high, turning to address the Inquisition gathered in the courtyard below. 

 

“I will lead us against Corypheus, and I will be an ambassador. I’m an elf standing for Thedas; the Inquisition is for all.” The crowd roared with approval, swept up in it all. That they were bowing to an elf didn’t seem to bother them, despite the racism Benna had seen with her own eyes. Indeed, some insisted that it was merely proof of the Maker’s hand; surely no Dalish elf could ever rise so high without divine guidance. Benna cheered with the rest - she honestly couldn’t think of anyone who would be a better choice. Evvy had proved herself back at Haven. 

 

——-

 

She spent several hours with Cullen, discussing the needs of the young Templars. “Some will be children; we should expect several more Chantry sisters to come with the trainees, at the very least. We may even get a few more Templars. Most often it’s the older men, those that survive, who are given the task of training the next generation- ” he broke off, muttering to himself. She didn’t ask. 

 

They’d settled on housing both the trainees and Templars in the tower on the opposite side of Skyhold from the mages. That way anyone who might want to start trouble would have to pass by either the Great Hall or the Gatehouse to reach the other group, hopefully allowing the soldiers to head it off. Benna was hoping that Barris and his squads would agree to help keep the peace, if only out of gratitude for their rescue. Much of the week was spent begging staff from Josephine and clearing out the tower. Benna accidentally set what was left of the roof on fire when she tried to speed the process up and burn the dust and debris. Luckily, she was the only one there at the time. Still, plenty of people gave her odd looks when she pushed the flames aside to leave, only to receive a bucket of water to the face. She had to stand, soaking wet, and explain what had happened to an overly helpful group of workers and mages, who had turned up to fight the fire. And then help put it out. 

 

Cullen did a double take as she stomped through his new office, trying to avoid most of the eyes. Her hair was sticking to her face like pondweed, she reeked of smoke, and she was steaming slightly as she tried to discreetly dry off. Glancing through the far door, she could see that there were far more soldiers out there than she had the patience to deal with right now, so she flung herself into a chair set up near the hearth, muttering “Don’t ask.” in Cullen’s direction. 

 

He raised his hands in silent surrender, trying not to notice how her shirt was moulded to her figure, and  _ especially _ not noticing that it was obviously cold out on the battlements. Thankfully, Benna folded her arms with a huff and stared into the fire, leaving Cullen to try and cudgel his brain back to his paperwork. 

 

It didn’t stop him from laughing about it later, once the report crossed his desk. 

 

———-

 

Cullen’s tower became something of a refuge for Benna over the next few weeks. She was still sharing quarters with almost all the mages, liveable space being at a premium while they remodelled the castle, which meant that the magelings whispered late into the night, despite repeated threats from half the adults. Josephine had promised her a room in what was becoming known as The Inquisitor’s Tower once the floors and roof were fixed, but that was weeks away still. Cullen’s office, draughty and busy as it was, gave her a measure of peace. 

 

The only downside was that it meant that the truly astounding number of people who wanted to talk to her found out rather quickly, and then they knew where to find her. 

 

Josephine was first, of course. It seemed to Benna that the Ambassador hadn’t stopped moving since their arrival, energised by the challenge and opportunity Skyhold represented. She breezed in one morning after a particularly hard training session, looking as fresh and groomed as a thoroughbred to Benna’s shaggy pony. She tried to ignore the sweat-damp hair hanging in her face as Josephine talked. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans, but I was just hoping for an update regarding the tower preparations?” Sighing inwardly, Benna reached for a parchment. 

 

Next was Vivienne, followed by an elf with a tea tray. Where the hell had she found  _ that _ ? Most people were still sharing cups after so much was lost at Haven. The First Enchanter deliberately sat with her back to Cullen, not that he noticed the slight. “My dear, I  _ do _ hope you’ll be consulting with me for your new project. I’m simply the best person in Skyhold to advise you. Not that I want to take over,” she added, in a manner that indicated quite the opposite as she reached for the honey. “I’m certainly busy enough already, but as far as I’m aware, you have  _ so _ little experience with Templars that I felt I simply  _ must  _ offer my expertise.” Benna sipped the tea Vivienne had poured her, smiled a smile with perhaps too many teeth, and promised to come to Vivienne with any concerns. She did ask her to suggest a colour scheme for the tower, with thanks, just to smooth the ruffled feathers. 

 

The staff working on the towers wandered in and out, waving parchments filled with numbers, or requisitions, or complaints. All required Benna to read them and deal with it somehow. Cullen, in a sympathetic gesture, cleared a corner of his desk for her to work on, even sharing his secret tea with her. He’d had three pouches in his emergency bag, which she totally agreed with. 

 

The constant cycle of interruptions continued. Shae and Mal, when they weren’t working, pestering for stories or songs. Cullen’s own staff, messengers from  _ everyone, _ mages she was friendly with, Dorian or Varric when they got bored, mages who had a problem with something, soldiers, a decorator sent by Josephine to consult with Benna on how Evvy would like her room, her patients for a check up… it was amazing that either of them got any work done at all. Yet the piles of completed paperwork on the desk and on the floors slowly grew. There was even a barrel Benna had wrestled into place, filled with carelessly rolled up complaints. Most of it was people moaning just to complain. Benna was plotting to accidentally set it on fire. 

 

But some were real issues that needed to be addressed. Fiona came to see Benna one afternoon, still wearing her Grand Enchanter’s robes and carrying a staff. Benna made a mental note to find out what had happened to hers. Even if it wasn’t necessary, it still looked impressive. They settled into the chairs by the fire (another had mysteriously appeared a few days ago) and made polite chit chat while sipping on some of the tea that Benna had purloined from Cullen’s stash. 

 

Finally, Fiona set down her tin cup and turned to the reason for her visit. “ _ Je voudrais discuter un problème.”  _ She began. Benna nodded, catching Cullen’s raised eyebrows at the switch to Orlesian. From what she knew of the Grand Enchanter, it indicated a serious topic. “There have been… problems between various factions among our people _.”  _ Our people, meaning mages. Benna had witnessed some of the arguments herself; the same issue that Fiona had presided over still persisted. The problem was the various ‘fraternities’ within mage politics, the most prominent being the Loyalists, led by Vivienne, the Libertarians, led by Fiona, and the Isolationists, led by a sour man named Ryf. These political parties had existed long before the beginning of the mage rebellion, but the chaos and blood had solidified the differences. 

 

The Loyalists, as they called themselves, wanted a return to the status quo that had existed before the explosion in Kirkwall. They supported the Circles as an institution, including Templar oversight and Harrowings. The Libertarians wanted the exact opposite. Benna had spoken with mages from both parties, and many of them would be open to a compromise, if not for ‘those damn _fill-in-the-blank._ ’ The Isolationists were the most problematic, to her mind. They wanted mages to remove themselves from society completely, form some kind of magical enclave. But they, like all former Circle mages, had almost no experience living out in the world. They couldn’t hunt or forage for food, they barely knew how to cook, and most of them had never seen a loom or spindle before. They had followed the majority and settled in Redcliff because they had almost no other choice. Those who hadn’t had vanished into the wilderness, often reappearing as corpses. 

 

“Ryf’s people are vehemently against any sort of cooperation with the Inquisition, despite our good treatment.” Fiona sighed. “Not only do they refuse to have anything to do with non-mages, they actively hinder our efforts. I can’t count the number of problems they’ve caused.” Benna nodded slowly, her eyes far away as she considered the problem. “Alas, there is only so much control I have over them, and Vivienne even less. I doubt that most of them would even listen to Ryf, should he try to help us.”

 

“Well they certainly wouldn’t listen to me,” Benna replied. “I’m too close to the leadership here.”

 

“And you are an apostate, who has never experienced the Circle first hand.” Fiona agreed. “Yet I find myself at a loss. We cannot continue as we have; it is only a matter of time before one of them causes a tragedy.”

 

Benna hummed in reply and reached for a blank piece of parchment. They needed to seek council with the Nightingale. 

 

\----------

 

Just two days before the Templars were due to arrive, their quarters were complete. Everything was as ready as Benna could make it, including orders to the kitchen for a large communal meal served to the tower the night of their arrival, to allow them time to settle in. She was just starting to relax, having thanked the staff who had worked so hard, when Shae delivered a message from Josephine.

 

_ Lady Benna, _

 

_ I apologise for imposing once again, but I am at my wit’s end. The Inquisitor has informed us that she has hired a medium-sized mercenary company to aid our efforts, and that they are on their way to us as I write this! Bull’s Chargers consists of ‘roughly forty-five’, including support personnel, which means that they are too many to easily fit into the barracks with our own men.  _

 

_ Which brings me to my request: for you to organise the refurbishment of the corner tower beside the Templars’ for the Chargers. Nothing too lavish; they are a travelling mercenary company, and will be unused to much luxury. _

 

_ You are welcome to meet with me any time to discuss this in more detail. _

 

_ Lady Montilyet _

 

Benna looked over at Cullen and started to laugh helplessly. What else could she do?


	51. In Which Politics Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been messed with so much more than usual! I’m trying to show Benna’s new life and how she’s doing from other perspectives but it’s tricky. Who the hell knows what Vivienne is thinking most of the time? 
> 
> As always, massive thanks to Fire_Kitten for being my beta. She just posted yesterday so go on over and give it a read. 
> 
> Comments and theories are as mana from heaven. We still have several mysteries to solve... 
> 
> Xxx

Benna was vibrating with nervous energy as she stood next to Cullen one afternoon. The Templars they’d rescued from Therinfal were finally arriving, after stopping in Haven to search for survivors. Looking out through the open gates, Cullen could just see the first few beginning to tentatively cross the enormous bridge on their way into Skyhold.

 

“What if they don’t like it?” She whispered, grabbing his arm. He couldn’t help but smile.

 

“They will,” he promised, his voice just as low. “They’ll appreciate all the effort you went to for them. And they’ve been in Haven; anything would seem like a palace after that.”

 

Benna sighed, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she looked down. “I suppose. I just want things to be perfect; these are your people, after all.” Taken by surprise, he glanced back to the approaching figures. He supposed they were.

 

“I suppose they are. I just hadn’t thought of it that way.” She released his arm and took a small step sideways, nervously brushing at her blue dress. It was the same one she’d worn when they’d been at the tavern in Haven, he realised. The one that brought out her eyes. “You, uh… you look very pretty.” Maker’s Breath, why had he said that? He could  _ feel _ the blush rising up his neck. He glanced around, wondering if anyone else had heard his mouth run away with him.

 

Thankfully, she only shot him a distracted smile in response, her focus back on the shining armour on the bridge. They stood in awkward silence after that, waiting. He always hated this part. Why should the Commander have to stand still? He’d much rather walk down and meet them on their way up. Benna was standing at attention next to him, only the tight grip she had on the staff she’d borrowed from someone showing her nerves. Her knuckles were white.

 

He reached over and brushed his fingers over hers, startling her into looking at him. “It will be fine,” he promised again. She took a deep breath and smiled, her shoulders relaxing minutely. A neigh rang out from the approaching group, and Benna’s eyes went wide. With an excited squeak, she dropped the staff, leaving Cullen to catch it before it fell in the mud, and vanished. He watched her, bemused, as she dashed towards the gatehouse, skirting the warriors. She disappeared between the armoured bodies, leaving Cullen to greet them alone. What..?

 

He switched focus when Barris marched up with military precision and gave a perfect salute. Cullen returned it with a fist pressed to his heart and a welcoming smile, before striding forward to shake the man’s hand. “Glad you’re here, Knight-Captain. How are your men?” 

 

The man smiled back, relief palpable. “As you see; a little tired from climbing into the clouds but mostly hale and ready to work. The lyrium the Inquisition provided has helped us recover nicely.” 

 

Cullen nodded in approval, glancing around the now busy courtyard for Benna. She should be here, establishing herself as an important contact to the Templars. Barris coughed gently. “If you’re looking for the Spirit Healer, Commander, she’s over there.” Following the man’s nod, he found Benna. She was twined around her horse’s neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, ignoring everything else. He sighed. 

 

“Benna!” She looked up when he called her name and waved, her smile visible across the courtyard and practically glowing with happiness. She started walking towards them,  _ still leading the damn horse _ . Cullen wasn’t sure whether to laugh or curse; Nunis was going to be on the welcoming committee. He lost the battle and snorted with laughter, along with Barris, when she pounced on what looked to be the youngest of the Templars, asking rapid questions, to judge by his response. 

 

Barris looked back at Cullen, brown eyes full of suppressed humour. “She doesn’t know the protocol at all, does she?”

 

Cullen sighed. “No, she knows,” he’d listened to Josephine lecture her about it for an hour yesterday. “She just doesn’t care all that much. Didn’t she heal that boy back in the cells?” At the Knight-Captain’s hum of agreement, Cullen nodded. “She doesn’t forget.” 

 

Finally, Benna arrived back at his side, Nunis looking over her shoulder with interest. Benna was beaming, her eyes sparkling. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in weeks. Her pretty dress was covered in golden horsehair and a fair amount of slobber. He couldn’t help but smile back at her; her joy was infectious. Thankfully, she jumped in and took over the conversation, welcoming the Templars graciously and explaining all about their accommodations and what she had prepared, leading them away while still clinging tightly to the horse’s reins. Cullen followed slowly, lost in thought. And still carrying her damn staff. 

 

—————

 

Benna accompanied Fiona and Vivienne to the Templars’ new tower. The two women had asked her to join them and, in Fiona’s case, make introductions. She wasn’t exactly sure why they were doing it now, as the Templars would be finishing their evening meal, but she was willing to indulge them; it was important that each side saw the other as allies, not enemies captured by the Inquisition. She briefly wondered if they should have asked Cullen to come along, but dismissed the thought. It would have made them look as if they needed his protection. 

 

When she’d met them in the lower courtyard, Vivienne had done what Benna called ‘the Parisien Sweep’; her eyes had swept over both Fiona and her from head to toe and back, followed by a carefully neutral expression and a tiny sniff. Benna had followed her gaze. She was wearing scuffed leather boots to Vivienne’s white slippers, and she still had horsehair down her front from brushing Nunis that afternoon. She carried no staff, and her hair was in its usual braid. There was no getting around it: she looked like a barn sparrow compared to Vivienne’s swan. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. With an inward shrug, she smiled at the other women and led the way to the tower. 

 

Her knock was answered by a man about her age, which probably meant he was low on the totem pole. She smiled and opened her mouth to introduce them, but Vivienne swept past, brushing past the Templar as he backed away, as if from the sheer force of her personality. Vivienne disappeared into the tower, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Benna met the young man’s eyes. “The Lady Benna and Grand Enchanter Fiona. We request a few minutes of Knight-Captain Barris’ time.” He nodded with the ghost of a smile, giving them a small bow before gesturing them inside with a sweep of his arm. As he made to shut the door behind them, she turned back. “What’s your name?”

 

Startled, he blinked at her. “Merron, my lady.” She smiled at him, gaining one in return.

 

“Nice to meet you, Merron.” 

 

They found the Knight-Captain in the common room she had designed. Each floor of the tower had its own function, with the armoury on the lowest level, for easy access, equipped with chests and weapons racks, a comfortable common room on the next floor and sleeping quarters above. As she and Fiona, who had uncharacteristically remained silent up till now, reached the top of the stairs they found Vivienne standing in front of the fire, midway through her ‘Loyalist’ speech. “I’m sure it will relieve you to know that there  _ are _ loyal mages here, and not just ignorant apostates…” 

 

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” a Templar Benna didn’t know interrupted, “but isn’t  _ she _ the leader of the mages here?” She paused in her step as all eyes turned to her, but relaxed into a smile and opened her mouth to speak.

 

“- preposterous.  _ De penser qu'une morveuse _ -”

 

“Vivienne,” Fiona interrupted her, “Benna speaks Orlesian.” As did several Templars, judging by their glances. The First Enchanter’s mouth shut with a snap. Recovering magnificently, she drew herself up as she turned back to the Knight-Captain, but was interrupted - again - as he rose and addressed Benna.

 

“My lady, what can we do for you this evening?” She smiled and moved over to him, taking the seat that he gestured to, Fiona settling silently slightly behind her.

 

“I wanted to introduce Madame de Fer, leader of our Loyalist mages, and Grand Enchanter Fiona, leader of the Libertarians. Fiona came to us from Redcliff, which, if you hadn’t already heard the rumours, was a terrible situation. She did well to keep the mages together for as long as she did. Both these ladies are considered allies of the Inquisition, and do their best to give what aid they can.”

 

Barris inclined his head to each mage in turn, eyes wary. “Both names are well known to us. It is an honour to meet you.”

 

Benna smiled, relaxing slightly now the introductions were done, and no one seemed about to attack anyone else. “I also wanted to check on you all. How do you find the accommodations? Is there anything you need? The Commander and Lady Montilyet have made arrangements for your philtre to be brought up each morning by a trusted member of staff, and you are welcome to inspect our stores, if need be.”

 

The same Templar who had spoken to Vivienne before, sat beside Barris, gave her a sardonic grin. “I think we may take you up on that offer, Lady Benna,” Barris gave him a sharp glance. “Not that we don’t trust the Inquisition,” he added hurriedly, “Just that I personally won’t feel safe trusting my lyrium supply to anyone else for a long time.”

 

“I quite understand,” Benna smiled graciously. “Do any of you require healing? I know that the journey was fairly arduous and I have some small talent in that direction -” A rumble of laughter ran around the room. All these men and women had seen her enormous healing spell. She grinned slightly and inclined her head.

 

Barris relaxed into his chair and called for drinks, and the evening became much more connvial after that. They hardly noticed when Vivienne - graciously - stalked out.

 

—————

 

Cullen carefully led Benna through the door, guiding her so she didn’t bump into the frame. She giggled from behind the hands that covered her eyes and asked, “Can I look now?” 

 

“Not yet,” he answered, laughter in his voice. He let go of her elbow and went to grab the basket he’d hidden behind the desk. She followed his footsteps with a tilt of her head and asked again. “Now?” 

 

“Yes,” 

 

Benna lowered her hands and looked around, blinking. He’d brought her to the other gatehouse tower, only steps away from his office. Maker knew what had got into him, playing a game like this instead of just telling her. But he’d wanted to see her face. Which was currently puzzled as she flicked her eyes between him and the basket. He smiled and threw his hands out as if to say, ‘ta-dah!’. When she still looked confused, he rolled his eyes, one hand creeping to the back of his neck. “This is yours.” 

 

“The… basket? Thank you.”

 

“No,” he snapped, nerves making him sharp. “The office. It’s for you.” And then he really did get to enjoy the look of surprised delight on Benna’s face as she took another look around, spinning a full circle. Her hair, in its usual long braid, spun out behind her like a counterweight. She went to peek out of the window, one of three facing out to the lower courtyard, exclaiming over the quality of the light. Then she almost danced to the bookshelves he’d had installed, all along one side of the room. They were empty at the moment, but he’d wanted so many because she’d mentioned how much she loved to read, and that she’d had to leave her collection behind. A smile tugged at his lips at her delight. A chest with a sturdy lock, a new complaints barrel, a few comfortable-ish chairs around the fireplace and a large desk, already stocked with candles and writing supplies, made up the rest of the furniture. Benna went to each in turn, running her fingers over them as if greeting new friends. 

 

Cullen was so absorbed in watching her that he was taken by surprise when she hugged him. The sudden warmth against his chest, without his breastplate today, made him freeze in shock. By the time he’d recovered himself enough to hug her back, she’d let go, beaming. “ _ Thank you _ ! I can’t believe all this is for me…” And she was gone again, darting from place to place like a butterfly, inspecting every knothole and cushion. He gestured to the basket.

 

“I thought you might like to take the children out to the lake, have lunch.” She moved over and peeked in, smiling at the carefully packed picnic. They still didn’t have much in the way of variety; mostly bread, stew and what vegetables could be found, but he’d managed to claim a few eggs and slices of ham, along with a bottle of watered wine. They’d come on the first few caravans to arrive in Skyhold. An excited squeak escaped, and she ran to his office to grab her cloak. She returned almost before he could move, picking up the basket and moving towards the other door. When he didn’t follow, she looked over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”

 

Actually, he hadn’t planned to. He’d expected her to want to spend the time just her and the children. But he couldn’t resist the idea, now the offer was extended. He smiled back, a warm, slow smile. “Just give me half an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vivienne’ little bit of Orlesian;
> 
> De penser qu'une morveuse-” - to think that a chit of a girl-


	52. In Which A King Is Crowned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! 
> 
> Managed to post this before Christmas (GMT time).
> 
> I'm switching perspectives a lot in this chapter - italics are Benna and normal is Cullen. I hope it doesn't get too confusing.
> 
> I hope you have a wonderful day, whatever your particular denominational flavour.
> 
> Much loves
> 
> XxX

Cullen strolled behind Benna and Shae, carrying the picnic basket and keeping an eye on Mal as he dashed back and forth like a puppy let off its lead. The sun was bright, and warm, even at this altitude, enough to melt some of the ice at the lake’s edge. A breeze, heavy with the scent of snow, swept off the mountains, blowing Benna’s hair into her eyes and throwing up sparkling crystals. It was a beautiful day. 

 

_ Benna walked hand in hand with Shae, chattering with the little girl about anything that came to mind. Both children were enormously excited about the picnic and the unexpected holiday. And it was perfect weather for it; cool enough to be comfortable but sunny. The lake at Skyhold’s feet rippled in the breeze, throwing golden rings up to dazzle their eyes. Mal rushed up to her with a special rock he’d found. It sparkled in the light: was it a diamond? Maybe. She glanced back at Cullen, gesturing for him to walk with them. Shae hesitated before offering her other hand, linking the three of them together. _

 

Cullen looked down at the small hand holding his. He could remember Rosalie being this age, the solemn responsibility he’d felt when his mother told him to look after her. She’d been a handful, even then, always demanding her own way. He remembered when she’d decided she hated walking; she’d forced him to carry her piggyback for days, despite his protests. Shae was much shyer, often allowing her brother to speak for both of them unless she was with the horses. She gave orders like a little general in the stables. Perhaps she could be apprenticed to Horsemaster Dennet when he brought his herd to Skyhold after Wintersend. His thoughts scattered when Shae asked him a question about butterflies, and he did his best to answer. 

 

_ Benna kept a sharp eye on Mal, ready to call him back if he got too close to the water. They still had no idea what might be lurking there. Cullen and Shae were involved in a very serious conversation; Shae would probably find him a good confidant. Benna loved that Cullen seemed to take the little girl seriously and treated her as he would an adult. Even if the very serious conversation was about what colour butterflies they might see in Skyhold. Mal was waving them forward from the top of a rock, shouting that he’d found the perfect picnic spot. His voice echoed across the water. Benna laughed and walked faster, tugging Shae and Cullen along.  _

 

He had to admit, Mal had found the perfect place. Sheltered on three sides by boulders and open to the lake, they had a beautiful view, shelter from the wind and a bit more privacy. He had no doubt that any soldiers on the road to Skyhold had spotted them a mile away. Cullen spread a leather-backed piece of cloth over the ground, placing the basket in the centre. He then removed his sword belt, since it would have got in the way as he sat on the ground, and settled himself with his back to a boulder, sighing contentedly. Benna chose to share his rock, sitting next to him with a wriggle. Arranging herself crossed-legged, she drew herself up and winked at the children before asking in a playful tone, “Well, aren’t you going to serve the Queen?” This was obviously a familiar game; they both grinned and tore into the basket, emptying the contents onto the cloth in the blink of an eye. A tussle with the wine bottle ensued, which Cullen obligingly ended, and Mal presented Benna with a tin cup shortly after, bowing like an Orlesian dandy. Cullen snorted with laughter. 

 

_ Benna took the cup, thanking her young gallant as graciously as she knew how. Sometimes her phrasing in Common was still clunky; things sounded better in Elven. Mal grinned at her and rushed back to the pile for a plate, but Shae protested. She walked up to a surprised Cullen and wrapped her belt around his head, pulling a bit too tightly to judge by his sudden wince. “Mal, we forgot about the King!” The adults became almost unnecessary to the game at that point, the children bickering about protocol and who should serve whom. Benna kept an eye on them to make sure it didn’t get too out of hand, but the King and Queen of… somewhere? Skyhold? were largely left alone with the wine. Which suited her fine.  _

 

Benna let out a happy sigh and relaxed next to him, her shoulder brushing his. “Thank you for this, Cullen. I think we all needed it.” He only nodded in reply, reaching to grab the wine bottle before it was a casualty in the Battle of the Proper Protocol. Refilling Benna’s tin cup, he smiled down at her. “You deserved  _ something.  _ I of all people know how hard you’ve been working, and I know that people exhaust you.” 

 

Her brows drew together. “How did you know  _ that _ ?” 

 

Surprised, he didn’t stop to think, “You get a little crease right here,” he gestured across his forehead, “And you always rub your face and sigh once they’re gone, and you try to avoid almost everyone if you can.” She stared at him for a moment, until he grew nervous, a blush creeping up his neck. “What?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

They lapsed into silence, but it didn’t feel terribly awkward, so he let it be. The children eventually untangled themselves from the proper protocol, and everyone got a full plate: a hard boiled egg, thick cut slices of ham, pickled vegetables, and coarse dark bread. Washed down with wine diluted with water. All in all, a very satisfying meal, and one the children praised loudly. There were even tiny honey cakes hidden in the bottom. 

 

_ After they finished everything in the basket, and it was investigated thoroughly for crumbs, the children ran off to play, a serious admonishment to stay out of the water ringing in their ears. Benna was content to stay in their sheltered cubby with Cullen, opening the second bottle of wine he’d produced with his mischievous little boy grin. This one wasn’t watered down for the children. He let out a little sigh of contentment. “This reminds me of a place my siblings and I would play.”  _

 

_ She’d never heard him even mention his family before. “Happy memories?”  _

 

_ “Yes. My sisters would make flower crowns while my brother and I tried to fish in the lake.” He snickered, “The one and only time he hooked something, Branson dropped his rod into the water.”  _

 

_ She laughed with him. “Did he get it back?” _

 

_ Cullen shook his head. “He and the girls ran home shrieking. I had to get it myself. Came home dripping with lake water and slime. My mother dunked me in the horse trough before she let me in the house…”  _

 

Benna giggled, covering her face with the hand holding the bottle. “I never had any siblings to get into trouble with, but I always wished for a brother.” 

 

“You can have mine,” Cullen offered generously. “I haven’t seen him in years, but I expect he’ll be overjoyed to gain a third sister.” They were interrupted when Shae came running over, grabbing Benna’s hands and urging them to ‘Come look! We found a squidgy thing!’. They got to their feet, picking over the stones to where Mal crouched, staring with fascination into a pool of water. As they got closer, they could see that it was a sort of freshwater pool, complete with weeds and tiny silver fish, as well as the object of Mal’s fascination; a sac of some kind of fish eggs. The boy had found a stick and was cautiously prodding it. 

 

Benna crouched down next to him and began to explain a fish’s life cycle, interspersed with words in Elven. He often forgot that Common wasn’t her first language; it was moments like this that reminded him. They ambled back to their little nook as Benna began telling a story about a golden fish that could grant wishes. He sat beside her, watching her face more than he was listening. Her eyes lit up as she told the tale, sparkling the same deep blue as the lake, using her hands to emphasise things. Her smile was always bright and warm, although she only showed it to certain people, and her laughter washed over him like gentle rain. Her lips looked soft. 

 

He wanted to kiss her, he realised suddenly. Wanted today to be much more than a nice day between friends. 

 

He physically pulled away, panic causing him to knock the back of his head against the rock behind him. What in the Maker’s name was he thinking? He couldn’t… 

 


	53. In Which Paperwork Wins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn this effing chapter! Almost three weeks this has taken me! Cullen just wouldn't talk to me!
> 
> SO. Most of this chapter was written by the wonderfullest friend ever, Fire_Kitten, which is why she's now a co-creator. We were both having serious trouble with our fics, so we swapped XD. Many many thanks to her and her writing - I hope you like it.
> 
> See if you can find the bits that are me and the bits that are her...
> 
> Apologies for the delay in posting - blame Cullen.
> 
> XxX

Perhaps it was because she’d had such a wonderful day. She was feeling relaxed and happy, despite the chill that had crept in as they returned to the castle. Cullen had been _so_ kind, having her office made and furnished and then taking her little family out for the picnic. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d uncovered her eyes, feeling like she was filled with sunshine. It was the first time she felt like she might belong with the Inquisition, and not as just a burden tolerated because of Evvy. Maybe that happiness caused it. Maybe Skyhold had had the time to work its magic, or the moons were aligned properly.

 

Perhaps the time was simply right.

 

Whatever the reason, that night, for the first time since the accident - for the first time in Thedas - Benna dreamed.

 

\----------

 

_Benna opened her eyes in a strange place - which was hardly unusual considering the last few months - but wherever she was dreaming it was utterly unlike anywhere she'd seen or knew of in Thedas._ _She was standing on the banks of a wide river, ankle deep in mud. The earth was a deep red, claggy and thick, sucking at her bare toes, and covered in a blanket of green, all the way down to the water. The sky was a pure blue arch over her head, untroubled by even the smallest cloud. She was surrounded by a bamboo-type plant with fluffy tops, at least six feet tall, and tiny white flowers crept along the ground. Other plants, in neat rows or a chaotic tangle, spread a rainbow of green along the banks. Some sort of grain, tall stalks just turning golden in the sun, vines on sticks, bushes with wide, flat leaves. It smelled of flowers and herbs, mingled with the scent of the river, so thickly it was almost choking. The air was hot and humid and still, the cries of cicadas and the occasional bird only serving to accentuate the silence._ _In a distant part of her mind, Benna knew she ought to be terrified: she'd not dreamt at all since waking from the crash and being stranded in Thedas and this place was nothing like what she expected. Yet for all the logic that screamed that something was not right, Benna simply couldn’t find any fear within herself. This place was… too serene._

 

_Wary of the last time she’d dreamed of a new place, Benna didn’t move. She glanced slowly around, checking for the now-familiar green of a rift; she’d lived under the Breach for months, and learned far more than she’d ever wanted to about demons. But nothing moved. No searing green was in evidence. Not even a breeze disturbed the plants above her head. The cicadas played on._

 

_Normally, standing in such dazzling sunshine and heat for longer than five minutes would have Benna's fair skin already burning and the sweat pouring off her. But all she could feel was a comforting warmth swaddling her like a blanket and nary a drop of moisture to be found on her forehead. Casting her eyes upwards Benna spotted several white birds wheeling high overhead in elegant loops, the sole residents of an otherwise endless cerulean sky. An odd longing to be soaring alongside them rose up in her chest and for half a moment she entertained the childish wish for wings to launch herself off the ground and fly free._

 

_Smothering a laugh at her own foolish thoughts,_ _she took a cautious step towards the water. An incredibly stupid move, tactically. If there were enemies, she’d just betrayed her position, and the running water would obscure her hearing. She could hear Cullen huffing at her. This river was totally unlike Callen’s Bourne, the river near Redcliff Farms where she’d first met Evvy. The Bourne was cold and chatty, fast flowing with smooth grey stones along its bed. This river was wide and deep and slow, the colour of rust and almost silent. On the opposite side, it was edged with green for a few hundred yards, until the red earth asserted itself in a steep hill, cutting off her view. The air shimmered in the heat. She could feel eyes on her._

 

_Benna chose a large rock, which jutted from the water's edge, and settled herself into a tense perch on top. She wanted to be ready. But… everything about this place… it didn’t feel right. She ran a finger through the water, but she couldn’t feel the wetness. And the animal sounds… something croaked across the river. It was the exact same noise she’d heard no more than five minutes ago. Even the echoes were identical. Almost like a soundtrack on repeat._

 

_Was she… was she actually in the Fade?_

 

_Just before she woke, something glittered in the endless blue of the sky._

 

\----------

 

She woke with a start, her heart racing for no discernable reason. She sat upright in her bed, staring around the room to check she was where she should be. Still in Thedas, good. She pressed her hand to her chest, willing her racing heart calm once more. _What the hell was that?_ Focusing on nothing but her own breaths for a minute cleared the last remnants of sleep from her mind and she was able to consider her dream more rationally, now she was outside of it.

 

It wasn’t the same as when she’d first began dreaming of Thedas. Although the river and the bank she’d been stood on had seemed real enough, it hadn’t felt as solid as the soft, woolen blanket and linen sheet clutched in her shaking hands. Not wanting to contemplate all the unsettling aspects of her dream and the more troubling questions they raised, Benna opted to set it out of her mind for a while as she flung back her blankets and hurried to dress for the day.

 

After yesterday’s excitement and the walk to and from the lake, the kids had been thoroughly exhausted, falling asleep almost as soon as they’d fallen into their beds. With the first flickers of sunlight only just cresting Skyhold’s walls Benna didn’t expect to see them up for an hour or two yet. She probably ought to head down to her lovely new office to see what work had built up during her impromptu afternoon off.

 

Plenty of people were already bustling around the keep, soldiers running laps around the courtyards with her mages, their eagle-eyed officers watching from atop the battlements while servants flitted to and fro busy with the morning tasks before the rest of the Inquisition woke up. She was tempted to join the trainees, but she had a suspicion that paperwork was like dust; it multiplied if you took your eyes off it even for a moment. Better to face it head on this morning. Benna smiled and nodded to all the familiar faces she passed on her way to her office, waving to Grand Enchanter Fiona who was headed to the nascent Mages’ Tower just as she reached her door.

 

On entering the office all the feelings of joy and gratitude from yesterday came surging back to her, a beaming smile spread across her face as she approached the desk that stood in the corner of the room. Her smile dimmed somewhat at the sight of various piles of paper stacked on its surface. Sighing Benna sat herself down and set about opening and sorting all the missives and reports that had arrived since yesterday.

 

\--------------

 

Several hours saw Benna making some headway with her backlog, although it seemed that as fast as she replied to each letter, at least two more were delivered by runners with another report from the Mages, or the Templars sent a whole new list of things she’d need to look into when she got a moment.

 

It didn’t help much that her focus was interrupted several times by various visitors. First being Shae an hour after she arrived, pleading with Benna to braid her hair before dashing off to the stables. Mal ran in a short while after to steal a cuddle and a sip of her precious contraband tea before heading out again.

 

Fiona stopped by around mid-morning with a tea tray, complete with something very like shortbread biscuits, to casually discuss several mage-related matters and give a subtle warning that Vivienne had been heard stating her “concerns” about unharrowed mages being given more responsibilities than they might be capable of handling to several of the newly arrived Templars.

 

Benna had to suppress an eye roll at Vivienne’s continued attempts to undermine her position within the Inquisition. What did she really hope to achieve? Benna had confidence that the Templars would not readily heed Vivienne’s petty stirring of the pot, especially after their response to her at the welcoming meeting, but it would probably be wise to meet with them again herself, to establish herself as their liaison and assuage any genuine worries they might have.

 

By midday, Benna’s pile of paperwork looked like she’d hardly touched it in spite of the hours she’d spent attacking it. Muttering under her breath, she got up from her blessedly comfy chair and stretched out the kinks in her spine. As her stomach rumbled loudly an idea came to her.

 

Outside her office door stood a runner who snapped to attention when Benna stuck her head out. She asked the girl if she would fetch a tray from the kitchen with enough food for two and deliver it to the Commander’s office. With an eager nod, the runner took off towards the stairs at a sprint as Benna strolled at a more leisurely pace along the battlements to the neighbouring tower and knocked twice before opening the door.

 

Cullen was sat poring over reports, just as she’d expected, and by the stiff set of his head and shoulders, Benna guessed he’d been hunched in much the same position since the moment he’d sat down. Which was probably at least an hour longer than she had. She could see from the furrow in his brow that he had a headache again too. At the sound of the door closing his head jerked up, mouth opening in surprise as he caught sight of Benna. He gaped at her for a moment.

 

“Are you alright?” Cullen half-started to his feet before seeming to abandon the idea and resettling himself in his chair. “Is there something you needed, Benna?” She watched in puzzled fascination as a blush crept up his neck. In the opposite corner of the office, Cullen’s assistant Malia looked over and flashed Benna a brief smile before returning her attention to her work.

 

“My paperwork keeps multiplying whenever I look away so I thought I’d take a break for lunch and see if you needed a respite from yours,” Benna said with a slight grin. “After the wonderful picnic yesterday it’s only fair that I return the favour.”

 

The door to the rotunda walkway opened and the runner Benna had sent to the kitchens entered with a tray laden with various delicious-looking treats and a small carafe of what she hoped was only fruit cordial, but turned out to be watered wine. Usually, she ate at the communal mess, something she actively encouraged both her mages and Templars to do, so she was a little surprised at the quality. Privilege of being the Commander. Cullen could only stare as Benna relieved the girl of the tray and found an empty square of the desk on which to set it down. But he made no move to stop her, which from Cullen was as good as an invitation.

 

By the time Benna had sat opposite Cullen and poured out two cups for them he finally found his voice again to protest.

 

“I have a lot to catch up on Benna, I can’t possibly—“

 

“Have you eaten anything yet today?”

 

“Well, no. But—“

 

“All the more reason to have lunch with me now. The Inquisition’s Commander will be no good to anyone if he pitches off the ramparts swooning from hunger.”

 

Benna didn’t look at Malia when a muffled snort escaped the young woman but stared down Cullen until his cheeks flushed pink and he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Maker’s breath,” he muttered. “I suppose a short break won’t hurt. Malia, I'll let you go too. Be back in half an…” He tailed off, catching Benna’s pointed look. “An hour.” He corrected with a sigh. “You really didn’t have to go to such trouble, Benna.”

 

Benna laughed and passed Cullen a full plate as Malia made good her escape. “What trouble? I just asked a runner to bring us something. Maker knows you work hard enough to deserve to take a break and not just once every blue moon. This is the least I could do after how generous you were to me yesterday. Although it just seems to have given everyone a reason to send me paperwork. Who do I need to speak to in order to acquire an assistant of some sort?”

 

Cullen took the food with a grateful smile. “I’m sure Josephine would be more than happy to find someone for you. I can imagine you’ve got plenty to deal with now that both the Mages and Templars are in residence and looking to you to handle whatever issues they might have.”

 

“I seem to have acquired a job that I don’t feel remotely prepared for,” Benna admitted candidly, now they were alone. “There’s a lot of different personalities among both groups and it is causing tension that I’ll need to diffuse before it gets out of hand. But I’m not sure I really know enough about the politics of either group to do a proper job.”

 

“You’re doing fine,” Cullen reassured her, popping a piece of hard cheese into his mouth. “The Divine had to work for months before she could even get them to agree to the Conclave.”

 

“But what’s my job description? I don’t have any kind of title; even the youngest apprentice knows more than me about magic! I’ve never even taken lyrium; how can I be even partiality responsible for supplying it?”

 

“Benna,” he caught her eyes, reaching across the desk to gingerly pat her hand. “You’re doing _fine_. And you have my support - and that of the other advisors. Everything else will sort itself out.”

 

—————

 

Benna smiled across at him, eyes warm, fingers catching his for a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Cullen. That means a lot.” He desperately fought the blush that he could feel creeping up his neck, his inappropriate thoughts of yesterday still fresh in his mind. He gently removed his hand from hers. She wasn’t wearing gloves. “Despite Dorian and Fiona’s kindness, and the children, of course, I’ve been feeling a bit… alone, since Evvy left.”

 

Of course she had. She’d been pushed into a role she never asked for, just as she was dealing with what _that bastard_ had done, on top of the attack on Haven. She needed support, and her best friend had left her. And Maker knew _Cullen_ wasn’t good with things like this. The best he’d been able to do was share tea with her and lecherously wonder how soft her lips were. “If… if you truly don’t want this role…”

 

“Oh no! I couldn’t.”

 

And he left it at that, selfishly happy that she would be staying in the office opposite, only steps away. Perhaps they’d even make a habit of having lunch together.

 

Yesterday, he’d been surprised and shocked at how suddenly he’d wanted to kiss her. In the dark hours of the night, however, he’d been able to acknowledge to himself that he’d wanted her for a long time. Since Evelynne had gone to Val Royeaux, in fact, weeks before even Therinfal. Why else would he have done all the things he’d done? Playing in the snow? Singing in the Mire? Drinking games at the Maiden? All things far from his usual habits. But she’d made him laugh, feel included. And she was beautiful. Was it any wonder he wanted her?

 

But everything in him, the core of what he hoped was a good man, rebelled at the idea of even attempting to court her. There were endless reasons. She was so… pure. Like a candle in a darkened room. The thought of the darkness that lurked in his memories touching her was impossible to bear. Only awful things came of his desiring something or someone. And he was the Commander and she a trainee. The power imbalance was enormous. They were both busy with their work, regardless.

 

And lastly, she was a mage. And although he insisted to himself and everyone around him that he was no longer a Templar, some things ran deep. Such things were _not done_. Knight-Commander Greagoir had drilled it into him that relationships between Templars and their charges must always be professional, on pain of possible expulsion. It was something he’d come very close to breaking once before, and he still regretted her fate. If only he’d been more vigilant, less indulgent with her, then perhaps Jowan… No. Nothing but disaster could come of his voicing this infatuation. Better to be the friend Benna needed, not an unwanted suitor.

 

And just how did one go about courting anyway? What was the etiquette for approaching an apostate mage with no known family but who stood at the right hand of the Herald of Andraste? The barely remembered advice from his father, himself a Ferelden commoner, probably wouldn’t suffice for any woman, let alone someone as special as Benna. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of his thoughts. Hadn’t he just decided not to court her? He mentally shook himself and turned his attention back to his dining companion, who was apparently oblivious to his mental turmoil and was describing her latest magical training session with Dorian. He watched her smile and her eyes sparkling as she made eye contact, drawing him in. And acknowledged wryly that he might very well be in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions for things/people/circumstances that I should include are of course welcome - this middle bit is in a state of flux so if there's someone you desperately want to see, let me know!
> 
> XxX


	54. In Which Benna Gets A Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how writing this chapter went:
> 
> Benna; "But! Cullen! Look! Cullen!"  
> Me; "No! No Cullen! We have a story!"  
> Benna; "But *look* at him! I just want to talk to him..."  
> Me; "No, we both know if you go talk to him it'll eat up three chapters!"
> 
> I'm mean, apparently...
> 
> BUT! Woo! New chapter! I've got several rough story arcs mapped out now so hopefully I can start posting a bit more regularly.
> 
> Love to all my readers, even if you don't comment.
> 
> (please do comment I love reading them!)

She’d been dreaming of the river again. Nothing had happened, just the slow, steady slide of sediment-rich water shushing against the banks. The wind rustling through the plants, and the occasional raucous bird call. Better than being home with Hunter.

 

Shaking off her thoughts, Benna forced her mind back to the paperwork. It was futile; she returned to worrying. This morning… This morning hadn’t gone well.

 

She’d been encouraging the mages and Templars to mingle in controlled circumstances; in the mess, during training, perhaps a drink amongst the leaders in the evening. In particular, she’d been looking for Templars to join her small teams of problem-solvers, still without an official title. To her mind, it was the most effective way to both spread the Inquisition’s influence and take a large step towards mage independence. But it required a lot of open-mindedness on the part of the Templars, and trust from the mages, both of which were distressingly hard to come by. But she’d managed to include a few Templars in their sparring sessions, helping to train the mages in combat.

 

It had been going well, until this morning. She’d been holding a barrier for one of a sparring pair, when shouting had drawn her attention to the next group over. Since she was apparently in charge, she’d made her way over quickly, breaking into a run when she’d heard a woman scream. Shoving through the surrounding circle, she’d reached open space to hear a man sneering in Hunter’s voice, “How do you like that, mage bitch?”

 

Mia had been crumpled on the ground, staff missing, hair in disarray, covering her face with her hands. Looming over her was a man in a Templar’s armour, jaw clenched, hate in his eyes and a long dagger in one fist, just drawing back for a strike. She hadn’t even felt herself move. She was suddenly  _ there _ , guarding Mia from him. He’d been pushed backwards by a magical shove from one of them, she wasn’t even such which. Maybe she’d said something? He’d been surprised at her sudden appearance, but that only lasted a second, the all-too-familiar expression of arrogance and hatred reappearing. “Another uppity demon-bitch. I’ll just have to teach you  _ both _ a lesson.”

 

She’d surrounded herself and Mia in a ring of fire, waist high and hot enough to feel six feet away. She didn’t say anything this time. Didn’t have to; she just raised an eyebrow at him. Predictably, it just made him angrier and more determined. Some people just couldn’t tell when to back down. He snarled at her as his eyes glowed lyrium blue. She had half a second to push as much of her magic outside of her body as possible before reality… rippled. This was the first time she’d ever seen a Templar’s Smite, and it rushed towards and through her before she could blink. It dragged at her, making her limbs feel twice as heavy and her brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. Behind her, Mia groaned an awful groan, as if the air in her lungs had turned to cement. Benna’s flame circle flickered, but it didn’t go out. A wave of shock went through the stunned onlookers. Suddenly thankful for the whispered lessons in the darkness of the mage’s quarters, she snarled back at him. “ _ How dare you? _ Stand down! You will not harm one of my people!” 

 

He gaped at her in shock, before yanking a blue vial from his belt and gulping the contents. This time the ripple included a white light that stung her eyes, but it was even less effective than the first. She could feel the other mages. They’d shoved their way into the circle, and were saturating the very air with their magic, enough to limit his field of influence and turn faces pale. The watching Templars looked uncomfortable, glancing around for the source.  Denon, the youngest of the Templars, the one she’d healed in the cells, had edged behind the other man, obviously about to attempt to restrain him. It wouldn’t go well; he was enraged now, about to charge the two women. Mia was dragging herself to her feet, jaw and cheek swollen from a punch. Truth be told, Benna was as angry as he was. She  _ would not  _ allow anyone to be treated as she had. Enough. Her lip curled, and she knew that there were flickers of flame in her hair. She locked eyes with him, almost daring him to attack her. She barely registered Cullen’s noisy arrival, so focused on this abuser who thought he had the right,  _ in broad daylight _ . So she flinched in shock when her opponent went down, unconscious, to a neatly-placed pommel strike from Barris. Where had he come from?

 

“Benna,” Cullen called from the edge of her circle. Her eyes flickered to him, then away, still trying to process everything. “Benna, let me in.” This time he caught her gaze, caramel eyes calm. She relaxed, pulling her magic back and allowing the fire to sputter out. Sparing Cullen a brief nod, she turned to Mia and wrapped her arms around the other woman, letting her sob into her shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on Mia’s back. She knew how this felt, only no one had ever come to rescue  _ her _ . Mal materialised next to her, blood drying on his chin.

 

“Mal! What happen- are you alright?”

 

He gave her a grin. “I told Samae I was goin’ to get the Commander an’ someone tried to grab me so I bit ‘im.”

 

Cullen’s voice behind her made both Benna and Mia flinch in surprise. “Someone tried to stop you finding me? Can you identify him?”

 

“Sure, Commander,” Mal’s voice was almost grotesquely cheerful. “He’d be the one wif my teef marks on his hand.” Cullen sputtered for a moment, checked on Mia, and began his ‘investigation’. Which had consisted of endless questions, before Benna could escape to her office and stare at her paperwork. Not the best morning. The Templar - Christophe - was to be questioned and kept under guard until Evvy got back. They couldn’t be seen as soft on Templars abusing their power; no mage would trust the Inquisition again, and politics would do the rest; the Chantry was still against them. Benna would be required to testify, as would Mia, who was shaken and bruised but mostly fine, thank goodness. 

 

Sighing in frustration at herself, she roughly stacked the pile of reports and stood, grabbing a coat and stomping out into the wind. Perhaps a walk would clear her mind. Predictably, she ended up in the library, helping herself to a glass of Dorian’s wine. “You know, you Southern mages seem to have discovered something that my countrymen haven’t! Resisting a Templar’s Smite? Impressive.” 

 

“Necessity is the mother of invention.” She mumbled in reply, slouching down in her chair. She really didn’t want to talk about it. “And I’m about as Southern as you are.” 

 

Tactfully changing the subject, he began speculating about the new mercenary company, who were due to arrive in a few days. “Rumour has it they’re run by a Qunari, of all things. I’ve never met one before. Must be Tal-Vashoth; most of the Ox-men would never think to build a life outside of Par Vollen.” 

 

She’d been able to do some reading, back when Josephine was teaching her to speak Common. “But what  _ is _ the Qun, exactly? Is it a religion?”

 

“Of a sort. No one outside of it really knows; they don’t talk about it to outsiders.” Benna decided to reserve judgement, but it sounded rather like one of the more poisonous cults back home. 

 

—————

 

Her ruffled feathers somewhat soothed, she returned to her tower to find that Cullen had finally had some good news. He burst into the room with a long message. A large portion of the Templar recruits from the Free Marches and part of Ferelden were safe. 

 

“Keran was part of the Circle in Kirkwall. He was a recruit during the Blight, but due to some complicated circumstances, he never achieved full Knight rank before… everything happened.” Benna made a mental note to really find out what happened in Kirkwall; Cullen was reluctant to even  _ say _ the word. 

 

Apparently, this Keran, uncontrolled by the lure of lyrium, had left around the same time as Cullen, and had gone looking for the children, months before anyone else gave any thought to them. Benna found his letter to be terribly lacking in detail. Regardless, Keran and his charges were currently holed up in a place called Soldier’s Peak, in the north of Ferelden. Cullen said it was an old Grey Warden fortress, and he was sending several squads of soldiers and a few of the battle-mages to guard and escort the children to Skyhold, as well as a request that Evvy and her team at least meet with them, since she was in that area already. 

 

All of which, as well as delaying Evvy even more, meant that Benna would be frantically busy for the foreseeable future. The Chargers’ tower was only half completed, and the children would need a space prepared for them too. Both groups would be arriving in the next three weeks, and the sheer number of children precluded putting them with the Templars rescued from Therinfal. Benna rushed off to meet with Josephine, gracing Cullen with a dazzling smile. The children were safe! 

 

—————

 

The last, and possibly strangest, thing that happened that day occurred as she was finishing up the plans before dinner. She heard the office door open but, thinking it was one of the children, didn’t let it distract her. When she did finally look up, surprised by the unusual silence, it was to find a human male standing against the wall near the window, watching her. He was tall, enormous actually, probably close to seven feet. His skin was a rich nut brown, darker across his cheekbones from long hours outside. His hair was covered by a broad-brimmed hat, but a thick black beard covered his chin, trimmed into a rough shape, probably without a mirror. His clothes were odd; made of many different kinds of leather in greens and browns, expertly made, they fit him perfectly, and they were cross-crossed with straps and loops and pouches. A beautifully worked pair of gloves were tucked into his belt. His eyes, as black as his beard, were steady, assessing, but somehow kind. He looked dangerous, but some instinct said that he wasn’t a danger to  _ her.  _ When their eyes met, he gave her a half bow, covering them with a scarred hand. 

 

“Can I help you?” Benna asked after a moment. 

 

He watched her for a few seconds more, then let out a confirmative grunt. “I’m your second.”

 

She didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, what? My second..?”

 

He gave her a look that implied that she was acting stupid for some reason, and he expected better. “For your personal unit. I’m your second.” And with that, he nodded firmly, grabbed one of her visitors chairs and placed it so his back was to the wall when he sat down, giving off the impression that the matter was settled. Benna watched him in bemusement; the idea that she, personally, would have a team had somehow never entered her mind. It took a lot of persistence, but she eventually pried his name and qualifications out of him; the man treasured words more than gold, it seemed. 

 

His name was Diego, and he was a hunter, trapper and rogue. He built his own traps and had been with a mercenary company for a few years before pursuing a solo career. The fate of the rest of his company remained a mystery, as did his reasons for joining the Inquisition. And he refused to say anything more, except that she needed him. 

 

Giving up, she left him to his silent watch and returned to her paperwork, his presence oddly comforting. He went with her when she invited him to the mess, eating silently at few feet away, ignoring Mal’s fascination. And when she bid him goodnight, he watched her walk to their door from the battlements, his distinctive hat silhouetted against the moon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mal is the absolute star of *this* chapter lol.
> 
> And Diego may be my newest favourite character.
> 
> XxX


	55. In Which Benna Meets A Pretty Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's this fic's birthday on the 16th! I'm thinking some tavern time.
> 
> Let me know who or what you'd like to see! There's a few things that I already have sketched out but apart from that it's a blank slate.
> 
> XxX

Diego turned up again the next morning, materialising out of the dawn shadows as she shuffled her way over to the mess with the kids. Yawning widely, only half awake, she just nodded to him as he fell into step at her side. Mal was always far too awake in the mornings, but she felt a small pang of maternal pride whenever she saw them both looking so neat and clean. Evvy’s Creators knew  _ that _ didn’t last very long; Mal always looked like he’d been rolling in dirt when evening drew in, and Shae covered herself head to toe in hay, dust, unidentifiable ick and horsehair. She ate in sleepy silence, wincing at the acorn tea that was still the only thing that was available. Surely Josephine’s people would be getting proper tea in soon? Or would that technically fall under Leliana’s perview, as their ‘Senechal’? She really had no idea who was in charge or trade or procuring supplies, or even the domestic staff. Someone to get to know. 

 

After a quick hug from Shae, both children ran off to their newly resumed lessons, cheerfully arguing about whether Evvy could beat Cassandra in a sparring match. It had become a hotly debated matter amongst Skyhold’s children, apparently. Benna had asked, and Cullen was out of the running. Apparently it ‘wasn’t fair’, because he always won. She couldn’t wait to see Cassandra’s reaction to her new fans. 

 

Diego joined her at training, to her surprise. As a hunter he obviously couldn’t cast magic, but he sparred with the mages. His teaching style was very different to the soldiers’; instead of shouting commands and drilling, he clearly believed in the school of hard knocks. He would disarm or knock someone down repeatedly, using the exact same move, until they learned to defend against it, allowing them to discover it for themselves. He would then offer an approving grunt and begin beating them up some other way. So Benna was prepared when he beckoned her to spar with him. He watched her much more closely than the others, and seemed to be training her much harder. When she breathlessly asked him why, he said simply, “I need to know you.” Which made sense, once she stopped to think about it. If they were going to be on the same team, they needed to be able to predict each other, and respond appropriately. It didn’t help with the bruises she got though. 

 

————— 

 

When midday rolled around, announced by the tolling of an enormous bronze bell they’d unearthed from somewhere, she stood up from her desk and stretched her sore muscles. “I’m going to eat lunch with the Commander. Have you met him?” At Diego’s silent shake of the head, she smiled. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. And then you can go find something to eat as well.” He stood up from the rickety chair he’d claimed, stowing the knife he’d been repairing in one of his many pouches. Taking that for agreement, she opened her door and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh air whipping past and blinking in the bright sunlight.

 

The door to Cullen’s office was propped open, which meant that she approached unnoticed, stopping short when she saw Cullen talking to a very pretty woman. He didn’t appear to be happy to see her though; if he was a cat, his fur would be puffed up and his tail twitching in agitation. His arms were folded and he wore a long-suffering frown. Varric watched from the sidelines with an indulgent grin. Cullen sighed, drawing her attention back to him. “Why are you here, Hawke?” The familiar address was a surprise; she’d never heard him mention any particular friends in the Inquisition, certainly not anyone he’d talk to in that tone. 

 

The woman - the famous Sienna Hawke - gave a big fake gasp. “Why, Commander! Isn’t it my  _ duty _ to  _ Thedas  _ to be here? We must fight the Big Evil!” A fist shaken dramatically at the ceiling. 

 

Cullen dropped his head into a cupped hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re only here because of Varric; don’t talk to  _ me _ about duty. Why are you in my office?”

 

Varric intervened, sensing fireworks. “Aww, come on, Curly. What happened to that sense of humour you flashed in Haven?” 

 

“I don’t  _ have  _ a sense of humour.” Cullen replied with a completely straight face. Benna couldn’t help it; the mischievous glint in his eye was too much, especially as it seemed like no one else saw it. She giggled at him, snapping his eyes to her, which drew the attention of the other two. 

 

“Ah! Someone else who agrees that the very  _ idea  _ of Cullen having a sense of humour is absurd!” Hawke was  _ very  _ pretty. Benna felt a small pang of envy; like Cassandra, her face clearly showed a lifetime of battles hard-won, but the scars just enhanced her looks, somehow. Hawke had shining black hair, tied back into a tight braid, with big almond-shaped green eyes, highlighted by a black tattoo and a slashing scar. She had perfect little pouty doll lips, but her nose was crooked from repeated breaks. Which probably caused the nasally note in her voice too. 

 

“Embers! Come meet Hawke!” Varric scuttled across and physically pulled Benna further into the office. After yesterday, her nerves were raw, but she tried desperately to suppress the flinch. It was particularly bad this morning; even the children had caused a reaction, which she hadn’t had for months. Varric didn’t need to know how little she liked to be touched. She barely heard Diego follow her in, but she could feel him settle against the wall. She pulled away from Varric and took a few steps towards the desk, smiling at Cullen in greeting, ignoring the sympathy in his eyes. He’d obviously seen her flinch. Hawke took the majority of their attention though; her sheer presence made her the focal point of any room. 

 

“Pleased to meet you! Any friend of Varric’s is a friend of mine. Actually,” she amended, turning to look at the dwarf with a grin, “that’s not true at all! Half the people Varric introduces me to I end up fighting, in the end.” 

 

“Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t set foot outside your door without finding trouble!” 

 

“Maker witness  _ that _ .” Cullen muttered from next to Benna, startling a snort out of her; Varric had told her enough anecdotes about his friends in Kirkwall for her to know the truth of that. She’d recaptured Hawke’s attention though. 

 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. But it's nice to meet you, Hawke. I’m Benna.” 

 

Cullen cleared his throat. “Benna is our Mage-Templar Liaison.” 

 

Hawke’s eyes lit up. “You’re the famous healer! The one who can bring people back from the dead!” 

 

She blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?” Cullen looked equally surprised, but Varric was smirking. It turned out that rumors were spreading of Benna’s healing ability; it seemed that the Templars had been talking. According to the most popular rumours, Benna had brought them all back to life, and they were now loyal only to her. Hawke was happy to pass on the gossip.

 

“I’ve heard several people debating a trip to Skyhold in the hope that you’ll heal them, or bring back family members. They said you work for free, too!” Before Benna could respond to that bit on insanity, Hawke’s eyes landed on Diego, and she skipped over to him, leaning up and into his face. “And who’s  _ this _ big hunk of tall, dark and silent?” 

 

“Yeah, I don’t remember seeing you around before, what’s your name?” 

 

Silence fell as Diego watched Hawke warily, totally ignoring the question. It got awkward. “He’s my second,” Benna blurted, stumbling over the descriptor slightly. Confused looks. “You know, for my team. We still need a Templar, and probably a diplomat, but…”

 

“You mean he’s your  _ sidekick _ ?” Hawke asked incredulously, taking a step back to look at her. “You obviously have a much better quality of sidekicks around here; I have  _ got  _ to talk to someone about that…”

 

“Hey!” Varric was hurt. “I’m the best there is!” 

 

She shrugged and turned away, bouncing to the door. “If you say so, Varric! Come on, let’s go see if Fenris has found the kitchens.”

 

“Of course I say so! What you need to remember…” Their voices faded away, leaving Cullen and Benna standing in rather stunned silence. 

 

Eventually she turned to look at him. “Is she always like that?” When he only sighed and nodded, she smiled brightly. “Lunch?”

 

\----------

 

She was just settling back to work after eating, Diego back in his watching chair, when a breathless runner burst in with the news that the Chargers would be arriving that afternoon, a day ahead of schedule. Swearing fluidly in Elven, she sent the runner to find her staff members, grabbed her papers and hurried out, through Cullen’s office and to the tower they’d assigned the company. It wasn’t ready yet! There were still tools lying around, beds only half built and the chimney needed a thorough sweep before they finished cleaning the main room. She startled some of her workmen, peacefully having lunch, when she ran in, and soon the tower began to resemble a kicked beehive. Carpenters and masons scrambled around, working feverishly to finish up their last projects, maids and runners waved brooms and dusters, and piles of bedding grew along the walls. 

 

Benna worked as hard as anyone, broom in hand, helping to heal the small injuries that inevitably occurred when working in haste. Even Diego was helping, moving furniture by himself that otherwise would have taken three people to shift. Mal ran in, wailing about some injustice, and was quickly pressed into service after a hug and a promise to discuss it later. She’d heard the horns signalling that people were crossing the bridge. 

 

Benna was standing in the middle of the room, directing the placement of the final pieces, when Cullen arrived with an enormous… man? sliding in behind two maids carrying a rug. The stranger’s skin was a dusty grey, torso so bulging with muscles that he almost looked like a caricature. One eye was covered by a shiny patch, and, strangest of all,  _ he had horns _ . A five feet wide crossbar, tipping up at the ends to sharp points. He must be one of the Qunari she’d read about in Josephine’s books. They paused beside the door, mostly out of the way, and watched the chaos swirl in apparent bemusement. She frowned and turned away. She had bigger things to think about just now. She felt, rather than saw, Diego take notice of the stranger, passing his burden off to someone else and settling back against the opposite wall, watching him warily. It gave her an odd sense of reassurance, even though she still barely knew anything about Diego. 

 

Benna did her best to ignore both of them, aware of how others reacted to the Qunari with apprehension, flinching sideways and glancing at him out of the corner of their eyes. But Cullen was oblivious to what was going on. “Benna!” He called, beckoning her over. She scowled at him, stomping across the floor, aware that her face was flushed and her hair was falling down. 

 

“Can I  _ help _ you, Cullen?” She asked finally, brushing some hair out of her eyes. Her tone was just this side of polite. Cullen flinched in surprise and opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. The stranger intervened. 

 

“Hi. The Commander wanted to introduce us. Word is, you’re someone to know around here. I got the whole situation from some of the soldiers down in the valley. Military, go to Cullen here. Secrets, Leliana. Nobles, well that’s Josephine. Mages or Templars, you need to talk to Benna. I’m The Iron Bull.” His voice was deep and smooth, like a river.

 

Her temper flared. At Cullen, not Iron Bull. “And you think  _ now _ is a good time to interrupt?” She waved her arm at the general chaos surrounding her, almost hitting a dwarven runner as he skirted past, muttering an apology. Behind her, against the wall, Diego shifted his weight.

 

To her surprise, both men hung their heads and shuffled their feet, like little boys being scolded. Cullen had a hint of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry Benna, I just thought…” 

 

She relented. “It’s fine. Look, The Iron Bull, come see me after the evening meal. My office is in the western gate tower.” He nodded and gave her a crooked smile and a careless salute, wading through the chaos to reach the door. Cullen shifted his feet a bit. She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow at him. “You know I was busy, Cullen. Was it really that important?” 

 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I should have thought- I just wanted you to meet him; he’s the leader of the mercenaries, and he’s volunteered to go with the Inquisitor on her missions. And you’re the Liason.” 

 

Benna sighed, her anger fizzling out. “I know, but you didn’t think to give me some warning? I’m a mess right now; look at me!” 

 

He surprised her by giving her a frank appraisal, his eyes sweeping down her body to her toes and back up to her face. “You always look beautiful.” He murmured, an odd intensity in his honey coloured eyes. She licked her lips and opened her mouth to respond, but they were jolted out of the moment by a loud  _ bang _ . Two of the workmen had dropped a heavy table. Benna shook her head to clear it, gave Cullen a distracted smile and left to direct the staff. The next time she looked for him, he was gone. 

  
  


—————

 

The Iron Bull turned up about thirty seconds after she’d arrived in her office. As if he’d been watching her. She shook off the shiver that ran down her spine, politely offering him tea. He settled himself into the chair in front of her desk, the wood creaking in protest, and made polite small talk, Diego at her back, his chair joining in the chorus. Perhaps she should speak to Josephine about getting sturdier seats. The Iron Bull assured her that the Chargers were completely happy with the tower and very much appreciated everything she’d done. No, there wasn’t anything else that they needed. She watched Iron Bull eying Diego, and she had no doubt that her mysterious second was matching him stare for stare. The conversation eventually tailed off into an intense silence, until Benna rolled her eyes. “Where do you stand on this debate, The Iron Bull? It’s only natural to focus on the warriors and people with big swords making lots of noise, but our training here teaches us to always pay attention to the mage.” 

 

He blinked and glanced at her, one side of his lip quirking in amusement at her less-than-subtle rebuke. But he did answer her question. “I’d agree. A mage is possibly the most dangerous opponent you can face, especially if they have an advance guard. They can be offensive  _ and  _ defensive.” 

 

She smiled back at him. “Do you have much experience fighting with a mage? We’re still trying to develop our tactics for a little project of mine.” 

 

“Your Multi-Discipline units? Yeah, I can see why you might struggle with tactics. Most mercenary groups have at least one mage, but they’re usually in a supporting role.” Benna gave him a curious look at that; was he implying that there was a mage in the Chargers? “The first thing you need to consider is their role…” The Iron Bull turned out to be a gold mine of information and suggestions, encouraging her to think about her plans in different ways. Diego even loosened his tongue enough to point out other potential problems and make suggestions from a rogue’s perspective. Benna made copious notes, excited to discuss their ideas with Cullen and the other mages tomorrow.


	56. In Which An Elf Drops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS MY BIRTHDAY! 
> 
> Okay, not my birthday but it’s Benna’s. TFOF is one year old today! 
> 
> A thousand thank yous to all my lovely readers who give my kudos and leave me comments and genuinely love Benna as much as I do. 
> 
> Shout outs to my OH and BFF, who aren’t really DA fans but still read my incredibly long fic (and hopefully enjoy it). 
> 
> And, of course, ten thousand squidgy hugs to the glorious Fire_Kitten, who’s been with me on this writing journey for months, and who is probably the main reason it’s still going. I love you! 
> 
> Thank you again, please enjoy this special birthday chapter. 
> 
> Xxx

“We aren’t training this evening!” Dorian announced when Benna found him in the nascent library. “We’re going to help break in our new tavern. Varric invited us.” And before she could protest, he flung an arm around her shoulders and steered her to the door. The tavern had been steadily growing as Benna’s towers had been, and it was finally almost finished, much to the anticipation of the military contingent. Sera had moved in already, claiming the best room in the place, with windows that overlooked the courtyard. Which, conveniently, also gave her an excellent vantage point for throwing crusts and pebbles at the soldiers during training, much to Cullen’s aggravation. She’d left the mages alone since one of them threw a snowball back with magical accuracy. Benna pretended that she knew nothing about that.

 

However, it wasn’t Sera they spotted as they crossed the upper courtyard, but Vivienne, closing the wooden door with a slight thump and gliding off. Benna knew her well enough by now to recognise her ‘offended’ walk. “Wonder what’s got Madame’s knickers in a twist?” She muttered to Dorian, earning a bark of laughter. Unfortunately, he decided to find out.

 

“Are you not joining us, First Enchanter? Varric assured me that the drinks selection would be adequate.”

 

Vivienne paused and turned as if she was on wheels. Her expression was glacial. “It isn’t the quality of the refreshments, darling, inadequate as they may be. It’s the company that I simply couldn’t bear for a moment longer.” Benna noticed that her right sleeve had tiny spots of red spattered along it, marring the otherwise pristine white. Wine? Or blood? Probably wine, she decided. Blood was thicker than that.

 

Dorian wasn’t ready to let it go. “Varric isn’t that bad, surely?”

 

She sniffed. “It isn’t Varric, my dear. It’s that ill-bred guttersnipe the Inquisitor found in Val Royeaux. I refuse to waste my evening listening to her incoherent babbling and then watch her trying to eat the furniture.” She raised a cool eyebrow. Benna was jealous. Half the time she looked like she was squinting when she tried to do that. “I would urge you to follow my example.”

 

Dorian waved her off. “I’m afraid I promised Varric we’d stay for at least one drink this evening.”

 

Vivienne’s lips tightened slightly, but she merely inclined her head and swept off, presumably to complain to a servant or something. Dorian ushered Benna into the tavern, a wave of sound and heat sweeping over them as they stepped through the door. The tavern wasn’t yet officially open, awaiting Evvy as the guest of honour, but that hadn’t stopped at least fifty people from crowding into the building, all of them talking at once. Benna took a moment to look around. The tavern was built over three floors, with stone walls and a mishmash of different types of salvaged wood covering the floor. The centre was open, with a large fireplace and chimney running the height of the building. A staircase climbed behind the chimney, and the second and third floors formed balconies that looked down into the main room, from which faces in uniform peered. The bar ran along most of the left side of the ground floor, a beautiful shining length of reddish-brown wood, with several unsteady-looking stools spaced along it. An eclectic variety of small tables were scattered around, all of them taken, and people stood in clusters, drinks in hand. Small rooms were set off from various walls, presumably leading to storerooms or bedrooms that could be rented.

 

“Embers, Sparkler!” Varric waved from behind the staircase. They made their way over to him, dodging people, and discovered a semi-private nook tucked away from the traffic of the main space. Several tables had been pushed together, forming an uneven, square-ish bank, with chairs, stools and benches arranged around it any old how. Hawke sat next to Varric, a wooden ale tankard in one hand. Sharing her bench, and apparently holding her other hand under the table, was an elf with pure white hair and sharp eyes. He was slender, as all elves were, but his arms and shoulders had plenty of muscle. His oddest feature, though was a series of pale lines, like white tattoos, that ran from his full lower lip and down his throat, disappearing into the neck of the black shirt he was wearing. His eyes were wary, but softened whenever he looked at Hawke. “This is Fenris,” Varric introduced them. “This is Benna and Dorian.” Fenris didn’t seem inclined to say much, just giving them a nod before resuming his watch of the room. He reminded Benna of the older soldiers, always alert for threats.

 

Sera was slouched at the head of the table, a puddle of red wine on the table in from of her. She was twisted around, one leg slung over the arm of the stately chair, craning her neck to watch one of the prettier barmaids. Perhaps she wanted a rag to clear up the mess, but Benna doubted it. She was so absorbed in her ogling that she barely acknowledged their arrival. The Iron Bull rounded out the table, crammed uncomfortably between the table and the wall. Which was possibly on purpose; he and Diego had both moved chairs around so their backs were to a wall. Bull’s eyepatch glinted in the light of the candles, which were stuck into empty bottles and scattered across their group of tables, in company with cups in various stages of emptiness, bottles, playing cards, scraps of paper and someone’s collection of daggers. Benna managed to beat Dorian to the less sticky part of the table, snagging the seat next to Varric. Dorian settled next to her with a put-upon sigh and a sharp elbow, glancing up at Iron Bull beside him.

 

“I don’t think we’ve met. Dorian Pavus.” He didn’t extend his hand to shake, instead giving a small bow that he somehow managed to look elegant. Bull opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off.

 

“Pavus? Of Qarinus?” Fenris’ voice was deep, rumbling across the table. His shoulders were tense, and he kept his eyes on Dorian.

 

Obviously surprised, Dorian inclined his head. “A fellow countryman! Yes, though I belong to the Minrathous Circle.”

 

Fenris’ face twisted. “I am not your fellow anything.” Benna watched, fascinated, as his tattoos began to glow a faint blue.

 

Sensing trouble, Varric interrupted. “Now now, Broody, Sparkler isn’t a magister. He’s working with us. Don’t kill our ally, all right?” Hawke quietly gripped the elf’s wrist, drawing his attention away from Dorian. Obviously this reaction wasn’t unexpected. Benna’s heart pounded at the sudden threat, aware that Bull had tensed as well. Fenris glared sourly at the dwarf.

 

“He’s a blood mage. And a magister. It hardly matters which side he proclaims to be on.”

 

Dorian let out a gusty sigh, despite Benna’s attempts to step on his foot. “Let me go through this once again. Being nobility doesn’t make me a magister. And being a mage certainly doesn’t mean I use blood magic. I despise the practice, as a matter of fact.”

 

“They all say that. And it never holds true, in the end.” But Fenris had stopped glowing. He didn’t relax, but the feeling that he was a split second away from violence faded from the air. It would take him at least two seconds, now. Hawke murmured in his ear, drawing his attention, and they were soon wrapped up in their own little world. A common occurrence, judging by Varric’s eye roll.

 

“Well, now we have that settled, it’s time for a drink. Wine?” Benna shook her head, requested mead instead, once Dorian flagged down a barmaid. Which drew Sera’s attention.

 

“Why’s everyone such a gloomy-guts? This is meant to be a party, yeah?” And with that, she launched into a rambling, incoherent story about someone she knew once, who may really have been Sera herself, and an unlikely misadventure with a Templar, illustrated with wild hand gestures that sprinkled all of them with what smelled like good wine. But she’d broken the ice; everyone was more relaxed by the time she finished her story with a cackle. Benna had finished at least half of her mead.

 

“Buttercup, you are crap at storytelling. It’s an art!” Sera’s response was to blow Varric a raspberry that had Benna chuckling. “So, The Iron Bull, what’s your story? Professional interest.”

 

Iron Bull was a pretty good storyteller, with a little prodding, telling them all about jobs the Chargers had taken. Benna had never heard of Sylvans before, and she was fascinated by the idea that dryads were real. By the time he finished answering all their questions, they were all at least three drinks in. Bull and Fenris were steady as a rock, Hawke was giggling to herself, and Sera peered blearily into her mug. Benna was leaning into Dorian, who merely seemed refreshed, the bastard. She dug her elbow into his side in petty revenge, which pushed him against Iron Bull. Perhaps he wasn’t as steady as he seemed. Oops.

 

“Hey, if you wanted to touch the merchandise, all you had to do was ask.” Bull joked as he steadied Dorian. Interestingly, the mage blushed. Probably only Benna and Iron Bull could see it, but that was definitely a pretty red flush Dorian was sporting as he sputtered at the Qunari. Interesting.

 

“So, Benna, how’re your mages coming along?”

 

Hawke gave a big fake yawn. “Boring! Stupidest injury you ever got? Varric?”

 

He snorted. “Tripped over my own feet. Fell down the Lowtown steps and broke three fingers. I was following you if you recall.” Chuckles ran around the table, the loudest from Hawke and Varric themselves.

 

“Ass over tit! Avaline tried to catch you, nearly took a header herself.”

 

“Got my horns stuck in a tree, once.” Bull rumbled from across the table. “Scratched my face to hell. Thought we’d have to cut a horn off to get me out.”

 

Sera let out a cackle of glee. “So how’d you get out?”

 

“Some of my men cut the branch. Almost brained me on the way down. I swear I smelled tree in my dreams for a week.” Benna collapsed into giggles, echoed by Hawke and Sera. Dorian was trying to hide it, but she could feel his shoulders shaking.

 

“What about you, Hawke?” Benna asked, blinking at her owlishly in the dim light. She’d started it, it was only fair. To her surprise, the rogue blushed, and Fenris looked uncomfortable.

 

“Got my nose broken during sex.” At the various shouts to the theme of ‘What?!’, she continued. “Fenris leaned over to grab my arm. Slipped. Missed. Elbow to the nose.”

 

“What?” Varric was incredulous. “You told me you got punched by a drunk in the Blooming Rose!”

 

“Of course I did! That’s less embarrassing than saying my boyfriend did it in the middle of things! You’d have teased us for months.”

 

“Don’t think I’m not going to now.”

 

Benna interrupted the budding argument. “Did you ever hear about the man who broke his dick?” She blurted, a little too loudly. She was the immediate centre of focussed attention from everyone within earshot. Not just the table. Blushing, she lowered her voice and took a gulp from her cup. The table clearly wasn’t going to let her off the hook, though. Not one of them had looked away. “So, this couple is having sex for the first time. Very exciting, he wants to impress her, right? So they’re going, and she’s telling him ‘harder’.” She put a little pant into her voice, imitating the girl. Bull shifted a little, leaning forwards. “So of course he’s pounding pretty hard, everything’s going well… until he pulled back just a little too far. Missed his re-entry.” Benna and Hawke winced. Sera had her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. “Then… _crack_!” She slapped the tabletop for emphasis. Every male flinched, hard. Sera giggle-snorted. Next to Benna, Dorian visibly recoiled in horror. She fought down the giggles. “Fractured penis. Erection went down like an empty waterskin, lots of blood and screaming.” By this point, Benna couldn’t help it. She was laughing too hard to say anything else. Sera and Hawke were right there with her, but every male in the group had turned pale. “He said… he said that it looked like he’d been killing people - with his cock.” At that, Sera put her head down on her arms and veritably howled with laughter. Benna had tears in her eyes.

 

She’d just started getting herself under control (the mead wasn’t helping) when Varric demanded, “That’s not really true, is it Embers? You’re having us on.” Which caused her to collapse into giggles again, shaking her head.

 

“No, no, it’s really true! I swear.” She took a big breath of air, wiping at her face with one hand, trying to ignore the other two women. “I’m a healer, Varric. You’d be amazed.” Actually, she’d read it on the internet, but that wasn’t really something you could announce in a tavern in Thedas.

 

Sera suddenly let out another mad ripple of laughter, flopping around in her seat like a jellyfish in a net. “Broken dick! Just oooh! Ahh! CRACK argh argh I broke my cock.” She was even kicking her feet like a child. Her amusement was almost more funny than the story itself. By now, everyone was at least chuckling, if reluctantly. “Like an empty water skin.” By now they were all laughing more at Sera than Benna’s story. Even Fenris was hiding a smirk behind his hand.

 

Everyone was just starting to relax and take calming gulps of their drinks, interrupted by the occasional giggle, when something hit Benna with a splat, making her jump. It was too dark to see exactly what it was, but it stuck to her blouse slightly before falling to the table. She glanced around to try and spot where it came from, brushing at the spot, but no one was looking in her direction. Varric was scribbling on a seemingly random piece of paper, Hawke and Fenris were whispering, and Dorian and Bull were pretending not to be watching each other out of the corner of their eye. Sera, the most likely culprit, was staring at the barmaid with big boobs again.

 

Splat. Dorian flinched, letting out a short yelp of surprise as something hit his cheek. Another pinged off one of the bottles on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. Suddenly, Sera looked up. Benna followed her gaze, just in time to see someone jump from the first floor balcony. Somehow, they missed the scattered junk and landed on the table with hardly a thump, right in front of the elf, who was already grabbing for a dagger and swearing. Fenris glowed an alarming bright electric blue, Bull upended his table and his drink and Hawke snatched for a bottle. Dorian just leaned back; only Benna could feel him drawing power from the Fade.

 

The woman - elf, actually - smashed a vial of something into the chair back right above Sera’s head. Sera lunged for her with a roar, but was yanked back abruptly as she discovered the needle-like knife that had pinned her collar to the chair by the person’s other hand. The woman - Brialle, judging by Sera’s outraged swearing - gracefully leapt off the table, saluted Sera with her middle finger and made her escape. Benna heard the door thud shut, but she was busy watching Sera, eyes wide.

 

The vial had been full of something like berry juice, which was now splattered liberally all over Sera’s face, hair and clothes, rapidly becoming worse as she swiped at the trickles over her cheeks. The archer wrenched the knife out of the wood, spun it expertly, and gave them all an off-kilter grin, still spattered and smeared with gore. “Later. I gotta go get her.” And she was gone, leaving a tense and bemused silence behind, broken by Varric swearing to himself as he righted his stool. Benna hadn’t even noticed him falling off it.

 

Bull suddenly let out a roar of laughter, mopping at his trousers with a rag. “Did you see that? That was awesome!”

 

“Which part?” Hawke shot back. “The acrobatics, the shiv or Sera’s face?”

 

“All of them!” Bull proclaimed. “That was one of the best pranks I’ve ever seen.”

 

Benna was mid-laugh when she realised what she was part of. Somehow, dagger collections and death threats had become… almost normal. Nothing about her life before had prepared her for all this madness, but she was learning magic and the best way to kill a man in plate armour. What the fuck? She was learning to kill people now? This was her real life?

 

And the people. She was sat at a table with a dwarf, a human, a mage and a sodding Qunari, a race that she’d never even heard of six months ago. Drinking mead and laughing about a prank that could have gone drastically wrong, and never would have happened at home. The sheer strangeness of it all just boggled her mind. Dorian was talking about the Sylvans again. Benna stared into her drink, trying to make sense of it. She was a mage herself. She regularly manifested fire from the power of her thoughts alone, and it did what she wanted. None of that was normal!

 

Her breathing sped up as the anxiety raced through her veins. She had a white knuckled grip on her cup as she knocked back the last of it. Nope. She couldn’t do this. She had to get out. She…

 

She needed to talk to Cullen. He was steady. She suddenly felt like he was the only stable thing in the entire world. Honestly, she doubted that the people there with her were even sane, let alone solid enough to hold her up with the waves crashing down on her. She should take him something, she decided muzzily. It wouldn’t do to turn up without bringing a drink or, or, brownies or something. Pushing back from the table, her feet tangled in something that felt like a leg, possibly inanimate. She didn’t fall, but it was a near thing. It caught Varric’s attention. “Hey, Embers, where are you going?” She just waved her empty mug in reply, sliding between two soldiers on her way to the bar.

 

—————

 

Cullen wasn’t asleep when the Private came to find him, but it was a near thing. Apparently, the Liaison was sitting on the battlements, without even a jacket. He should have put the pieces together then, but he was still surprised to find her that inebriated. She was curled up in a corner, staring at the sky, wearing the deeply serious expression common to the intoxicated and… glowing faintly. He actually rubbed his eyes to check and looked again. Yep. Glowing.

 

“...Benna?”

 

Her head tilted down, eyes dropping from the celestial to his face. “Cullen!” She bounced improbably upright and threw her arms around his neck. They both staggered as the bottle she was holding somehow clonked them both in the side of the head. Benna let out a tiny whimper. Cullen only heard it because she was literally breathing in his ear. “... ow.” He shook his head to clear it, skull ringing like a bell from the unexpected blow. Benna was still unsteady, and still hadn’t let go of his neck, so he steadied her with a hand on her hip. She was warm despite the night’s chill. He could smell the honey on her breath.

 

“Why are you glowing?” She just giggled, pulling back enough to see his face. She was an adorable mess, her hair falling out of its braid and her shirt slipping off one shoulder. Her cheeks were rosy with alcohol and her eyes bright if glazed. He felt his lips quirk up in response to her smile. She was genuinely happy to see him; it caused a warm glow to unfold in his chest, like a flower unfurling in the sunlight. She waved the bottle again, narrowly missing his ear.

 

“Look! I brought mead!” She was triumphant about that achievement.

 

“I think you might have had enough mead for tonight.”

 

Benna shook her head stubbornly. “No, I brought you mead. You’re supposed to bring a gift, remember, or it’s rude and people are sad. So, I brought you mead.” His confusion must have shown on his face, because her expression dropped. Maker’s beard, she even pouted. “Don’t you like it?”

 

Damnit, it was working. “Of course I do! I like mead.” He caught her wavering hand and took the bottle from her. It sloshed, suspiciously light. He raised an eyebrow at her; she was already giggling at being caught. “Benna, did you drink my polite gift mead?”

 

Grinning she nodded sheepishly. “Just a liiiiiitle” She held up her finger and thumb to show how little. “It’s a long way from the tavern and I got thirsty.” He looked at her, and then leaned sideways over the wall to look at the tavern door, only a few metres away. She just giggled, unembarrassed.

 

“Well, regardless, I think you should probably go to bed.”

 

“Noooooo,” she slurred, throwing her arms around him again. He’d never really touched her this much, especially while wearing a thin shirt instead of his armour. “Don’t leave me alone. You’re my, my house on the rock!”

 

“What?” He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice, even as he shifted her to walk, alright, shuffle, alongside him. She grabbed the mead back, unconcerned with where they were going. “Your house on the rock?”

 

“Yes! Like the song. Varric and the others are like the beach. You’re the rock.” She broke away from him as they passed through her office, stumbling over nothing, the bottle still making unsteady arcs through the air. Absentmindedly taking a swig, she grabbed a cushion from the chair nearest the fire. He hurried to catch her before she fell. “Thank you, I think?”

 

She nodded, still clutching the red cushion to her chest. “That’s why I came to see you…”

 

He took the bottle and wrapped one arm around her waist, trying not to think about it too much. She was soft and very warm. And still glowing. “If you were coming to see me, why did the watch find you sitting on the floor?”

 

Benna pulled away from him again, crashing into the door to his tower, which fell open under her weight, sending her sprawling. Why had he brought her here? He should have taken her to her quarters. But, he remembered, she was still sharing with the other mages. If they’d gone there they would certainly have woken someone, perhaps even the children. Not to mention the gossip that might ensue. At least here it would be obvious that they were just sitting and talking. Nothing untoward.

 

“I was looking at the stars.” Benna finally said, ignoring his attempts to help her up. She sounded unbearably sad all of a sudden. “I’ve never seen so many, before I came here. I wanted to find the pictures, but they weren’t there.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she made no move to wipe them away. “Even the stars are different, Cullen! Even the stars…” He sat on the stone floor beside her and wrapped her in a hug. Benna turned into him and wept against his chest, her fingers crushing the linen over his heart. He pressed his cheek against her hair and kissed the top of her head. What else could he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a lot, right? It feels like a lot. 
> 
> Posted with one minute to spare; I’ll sort out the italics later. 
> 
>  
> 
> Xxxxx


	57. In Which Benna Is Punished

Sleeping in a chair was never a comfortable experience, Benna remembered far too late.  _ Waking  _ in a chair, with a headache, was far worse. Where was she? A blurry glimpse of the ceiling offered no clues; wooden boards and a few spiders webs. It felt like a monumental effort, but she managed to turn her head, wincing as the muscles ground together like rusted metal. She met Cullen’s amused eyes and groaned as her memory came back in a rush. “How are you feeling?” His amused voice sent stabbing pain into her temples. 

 

“Awful,” she grumbled back. “Who the hell let me drink so much mead?”

 

“It wasn’t so much a case of ‘let’ as it was mitigating the damage,” he replied, more that a hint of laughter in his tone. “Once you were done crying about the pictures in the stars,” Benna moaned as another wave of memories assaulted her, “The word is ‘constellations’, by the way - You decided that we needed to drink my polite gift mead.” 

 

She brushed her tangled hair out of her face to look at him properly. “What’s polite gift mead?” She cut him off as he opened his mouth to reply. “No, wait, it doesn’t matter. Just… sorry and thank you.” She was earnest. “Thank you for taking care of Drunk me. Again. I don’t know how you keep ending up doing it…”

 

“I don’t mind.” Cullen murmured as she trailed off. Benna gave him the warmest smile her hangover would allow. 

 

“That’s sweet of you to say. I don’t know why the others…” she stopped short with a gasp, then flung herself out of the chair. “I just left the others last night! I didn’t even say goodbye! I need to go find Dorian. I’ll see you later, Cullen!” And she was gone, darting across the walkway to the library, leaving a slightly bemused but highly entertained Commander behind her. 

 

—————

 

She found Dorian hiding in the library, obviously battling a hangover of his own. His usually golden glow was missing, and he was wincing at the sound of her footsteps. He had his head bowed, his left hand pinching the bridge of his nose and a subtle glimmer of magic implied that he was trying to heal the headache, without much success. She flung herself into a chair in his nice, dark, quiet corner and took a breath. Dorian growled. “I don’t know why I thought this would be a good place to be; I’ve swapped the thundering sun for ravens and elephants on the stairs.” 

 

Benna winced in sympathy. “If it helps, I’m not exactly happy about today either.” 

 

He let out a snort of laughter, followed by a wince. “Funnily enough, it doesn’t.” 

 

She pushed her hair out of her face, absentmindedly trying to fix the remnants of yesterday’s neat plait. “I came up to apologise for leaving you without even saying goodbye last night. I… I just…” she sighed, “I just needed to get away.” Dorian finally looked at her properly, and reached out to tug her fingers out of the tangle. 

 

“You’re a mess.” Was all he said, taking over taming her hair. With much more skill than she had, he deftly twisted the strands together, somehow forcing it to behave. 

 

Benna made a disgruntled sound. “Why is everyone else better at my hair than me?” She shook her head slightly, sitting up straighter and touched the side of his head, her own magic gleaming gold in the shadows. “Thank you, Dorian. I woke up and rushed here to apologise, so I haven’t been back to my room yet.” Using magic had been an enormous mistake. Her head pounded twice as hard, as if she’d just absorbed his in addition to her own. She squinched her eyes shut and sucked in a breath between her teeth. 

 

Dorian’s fingers stilled. “Benna, where did you sleep last night?” His voice sounded a little odd. 

 

Absorbed in her inner pain, she answered without thinking. “Cullen’s tower. Oh, my head…”

 

“That’s what you get for using magic with a hangover!” Dorian chuckled mercilessly. “Not that I’m ungrateful; you’ve completely cured  _ my  _ headache.” She made a rude gesture at him with her spare hand. He merely snorted and finished off her braid, tying it with a piece of string she handed him. After a moment of silence, he ask in a half whisper, “So… how was it?” 

 

Puzzled, she finally looked up at him. “The evening? It was… fine.” 

 

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Not the evening!  _ Cullen _ !” 

 

“Cullen? He-” she stopped short, mortified realisation freezing her face. “Dorian!” She finally squeaked. “Not like  _ that _ ! I fell asleep in the chair!” 

 

“Is that what you call it?” He smirked at her, taking in her distressed expression. His moustache drooped in disappointment. “You really mean it, don’t you? Nothing interesting happened.” 

 

“No!” Why was she blushing? “We sat in his office and drank more mead and talked about the stars! Nothing else!” Blushing even more furiously in the face of Dorian’s smirk, she stammered an excuse and beat a hasty retreat, determined to  _ at the very least _ brush her hair today. And then hide in her office. 

 

Alas, it was not to be. Mal intercepted her in a state of high excitement. Evvy had sent a raven. The good weather had allowed them to move faster than expected, and she would be arriving - with the Templar recruits - this evening. 

 

—————

 

The gates of Skyhold - kept open late tonight especially for her - shut behind her with a grinding rumble, and Evvy breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a gruelling trip. Even after she’d defeated the Blades’ leader, a dagger to the jugular, the Storm Coast hadn’t become any more hospitable. It had lived up to its name - and then some. Evvy didn’t think she’d been really dry in a month. She’d also had an unpleasant surprise in a new phobia - deep stalkers - as they were knee-deep in the bitey little bastards. Something about the unholy combination of lizard and giant chicken just made her skin crawl. Simply wearing the medallion they’d made of their hide made her shudder. 

 

And then meeting with the children. The fortress had been wonderful, proper beds and food that hadn’t been dried, but the trainees themselves… Fully half were too young to even really understand what had happened, or why they should come with her, and the other half were at least partially absorbed into the Templar mindset, and suspicious. The oldest recruits had joined the full Templars when the fighting broke out, so the oldest was probably fifteen or sixteen. She’d done her best, but what in the Void was she supposed to do with  _ shem  _ children? Most of them had only ever seen elves as servants before, and her  _ vallaslin _ were enough to earn distrust from many humans. Solas, they ignored. Cole, they couldn’t see. And Cassandra… well, she got good results from the older ones with her military orders, but she lacked the patience to deal with the younger children. And the journey… even with their remaining caretakers, it had been a trial. 

 

So she was relieved to see Benna standing with Cullen and a Templar she didn’t know, ready to receive her charges. Her friend looked much more herself than the last time she’d seen her, chatting casually with the soldiers at her side. Her smile blossomed as she caught Evvy’s look, but she held up a hand to forestall their reunion. It was already almost dark, and the children should come first. She moved over to stand between Benna and Cullen as he shook hands with Keran. 

 

“Knight-Commander!” The young man snapped off a far better salute than she had ever received. 

 

Cullen echoed the gesture. “Just Commander now, Keran. Good to see you. Inquisitor.” He bowed to Evvy, followed by Benna and the Templar, something that still made her uncomfortable. No one should be bowing to her. She nodded to him though, and gestured to proceed. She didn’t have the energy for a lot of formality. Cullen stepped forward to speak to the children, Benna at his side, squeezing Evvy’s fingers as she passed her. 

 

“Good evening, recruits. I am Commander Cullen, former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.” The children, who had fallen silent when he started speaking, murmured and shuffled at that. All of them knew what had happened in Kirkwall. He let them whisper for a moment, before his strong baritone reclaimed their attention. “The Inquisition’s forces answer to me, and as military recruits, that includes all of you. This,” he gestured to Benna at his side, “is the Lady Benna, our Mage-Templar Liaison, and Knight-Captain Barris. For now, you will be sharing the Templars’ Tower, where a meal is waiting for you. Welcome to Skyhold and the Inquisition.” And with a sharp salute, echoed by every child, he turned them over to the Templar. Evvy forced her shoulders not to slump; she was still in public. Soon. 

 

—————

 

Benna was  _ dying _ . Mixing magic with a hangover was possibly the absolute biggest mistake she had ever made. In desperation, needing to get her work done, she’d even gone to see Mia, who had quietly apologised, but even elfroot wouldn’t touch her headache. The best cure was sleep, and that simply wasn’t happening. As happy as she was to see Evvy and the children, no really, she was, all she could think about was a dark room and silence. She hoped it didn’t show in her expression. 

 

Cullen was addressing the recruits, and she fought to keep a wince off her face at his volume. Why did he need a parade ground bellow? Her mind wandered as she stood and smiled at any recruit who caught her eye. Evvy seemed… subdued. Benna was a little worried. Her friend had lost weight since she left for the Storm Coast, and she was pale, with large bags under her eyes. She looked like she needed about a week of sleep and a good meal. She jerked back to attention as Cullen dismissed the trainees for the night in a flurry of salutes, and Barris took over, shooing them off to their beds. Benna would have to visit them tomorrow, and check in with the older Templars. 

 

For now though, Evvy had moved over to her. She carefully eased her friend into a hug, and felt from how she slumped into the embrace that Evvy truly was exhausted. “I just realised,” the elf murmured in her ear, “that I have absolutely no idea where I’m expected to sleep tonight.” Benna let out a little laugh, pulling back to smile at her.

 

“Come on,” she linked her arm with Evvy’s. “You can sleep in my tower; there’s a mattress of sorts, and no one will think to look for you there.” 

 

“Sylaise and Mythal bless you,  _ falon _ .” Evvy was almost too tired to care where she slept, but Benna hoped that she would be able to sleep undisturbed. The rest was for Evvy herself to sort out. And after settling Evvy in the half-constructed upper floor of her office, with every pillow and cushion they could carry, Benna dragged herself back to her own bed, barely able to check on her children before she fell headlong into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG this took me so long! Evvy just refused to co-operate - I think she was just too tired to be interesting lol.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience with me, and I hope I can get the next one written (and published) this week.
> 
> Comments and kudos are life, as usual.
> 
> XxXx


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